Dogtown: Recipe for a Blackhole
by haliad
Summary: -Lords of Dogtown- Being Stacy's step-sister, I grew up with the Z-boys, although with a very repelled attitude toward them. This is my account of all the unnecessary drama and trials I went through with them.
1. Slum by the Sea

**AN:** Hello new readers! This first chapter is really sketchy, especially the dialogue, so bare with me. The story does get better as time goes on. I've gotten the most hits on chapter 3, with chapter 7 closely tied, so at least keep reading until you get to either of those, and then decide to dump it.

To the old readers, this chapter has the same content in it, I just rewrote some the wording to see if it gets a better reaction from new readers. You don't have to read it to know what's going on.

Eden is NOT a Mary Sue, she's actually got a sort of uptight personality, which should be an interesting contrast to the Z-boys. Also, I hate most of the chapter titles I make up, so don't even pay attention to those!

**Disclaimer:** I've used characters, settings and dialogue from LoDT, as well as other mentions of 70's music and pop culture. The title is borrowed from one of my favorite songs, 'Pictures of Success' by Rilo Kiley. The only thing that's really mine is Eden.

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±Dogtown: Recipe for a Blackhole±

* * *

**Chapter 1. The Slum by the Sea**

* * *

Once upon a time there was a girl who couldn't stand the town she lived in. The girl happened to live in the seedy side of Venice, California. To some, Venice was known as "the slum by the sea" but to others it was just known as "Dogtown."

The reason why the girl hated it so much was because there was also a group of skater boys there, who lived only to bug and harass me. I mean _her_. Okay, so I may over-exaggerate a little, because they don't _necessarily_ live for it. But I am the butt of their jokes, so I think I'm justified here.

Around here, they're called the Z-boys. The Z stands for Zephyr, because they treat the Zephyr Surfboard shop, run by Skip Engblom, like a clubhouse. And I, having the wonderfully abundant luck that I do, happen to be the step-sister of Stacy Peralta, who is a prominent member of the Z-boys. Isn't that peachy?

Now that I've gotten the preliminaries over with, I think I can move onto my story, which starts the morning Stacy takes me to Pacific Ocean Park.

* * *

"EDEN!" A hand bangs on my bedroom door. "Are you awake? Come on!"

My head hazily lifts from my drool-ridden pillow. A feeling of dread crosses me when I realize today is the first day of school. I haven't even made any friends yet, having moved here approximately two weeks ago. Not that I wanted to make friends with the locals, they're the last people on earth who'd I'd like.

"I'm up!" I grumble, ceasing the heavy knocks on my door. In my state of somnolence, I manage to crawl out of bed and blindly reach for a dresser drawer.

Ten minutes later, I'm angrily stomping down the stairs. I storm into the kitchen, and demand to know, "Who woke me up?!"

"That would be me," says my step-brother, Stacy, who was chomping on a piece of toast.

"Oh," I say in a mock calm voice. "Okay. But now we be an excellent time for you to explain_ why_. School doesn't start for another two hours!"

"Calm down, Eden," says my mom as she peels two pieces of bacon apart. She glances at Stacy. "Sorry, she's always like this in the morning. Hun, your step-father had to go to work early, so he won't be able to drive you to school. Since Stacy's the only one who knows the way, he's going to walk you."

"So?" I say, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. "That still doesn't explain why we have to leave two hours early."

"Because Stacy's going surfing before classes start."

"What?" I look at Stacy in confusion. It's then that I notice the orange, graffiti-decorated surfboard that's on the table in front of him.

Stacy shrugs innocently. It was one of the many changes I had to adjust to when I moved to Venice. I wasn't used to having a brother around, let alone someone as mellow and carefree as Stacy Peralta was. Thankfully, he wasn't like rough-and-tumble as his friends were. It's a wonder how Stacy even came to be friends with the Z-boys.

"Can't believe this," I mumble, trying to control my annoyed tone of voice. "It's bad enough that you go surfing this early in the morning, but now you do it before _school_?"

After swallowing down a particularly large piece of bread, Stacy blushes and says, "Well, yeah. It's just what I do."

Grabbing a bagel, I walk out of the kitchen and gather my school supplies into my red backpack. Soon, Stacy trails in to tell me, "Sorry it's cutting off your sleeping hours."

"It's alright. I'm not so much worried about that, but more with your jackass friends."

"I'll tell them to leave you alone. Ready?" He raises his surfboard as indication of readiness to go. I nod and we head out the door. "You can ride my bike."

He picks up his bike from the side of the house and pushes it toward me. I awkwardly position myself on the padded seat. I hadn't ridden a bike since I was twelve years old, and now I was fifteen. Stacy stands on his skateboard and takes off down the street, with me pedaling behind him.

After a seven-minute bumpy ride, we finally reach the grimy beach. I stare around in wonder, remembering what Stacy had told me about this pier. There used to be a twenty-eight acre amusement park residing here. But since it was torn down, all that was left were a bunch of town up pilings. It was like a playground for outlaws, and that's why it made me so uneasy being here.

Despite there being legal warnings that the area was forbidden to trespass, that did not stop the local Dogtowners from coming here every morning to surf. It had to be the most dangerous place to surf in California, but they didn't seem to care.

"Peralta!" hollers Skip Engblom's slurred voice. "What's the girl doing here?"

As Stacy scurries over to explain the situation to Skip, I move past all the surfers who crowded the beach, and head toward the parking lot. The last time I came here, there had been an abandoned yellow couch at the side of the lot. I figure it would be an ideal place for me to wait, assuming that I wouldn't be bothered by anyone.

When I reach the parking lot, the same couch was still there and empty, but some of the Z-boys are in the area. Some are skateboarding the rocky asphalt of the parking lot, others are messing around, and the remaining were cleaning up the area in order to earn their turns to surf the Cove.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, I slip past the boys and curl up onto the couch, which regrettably smells like cat pee. It was better than sitting on a boulder, at least.

My plan of staying invisible doesn't last long, because someone yells, "Dude, I see Red!" and heads are turning my way.

Jay Adams skates up to me and flips his board upward so that it lands on the couch. I scoot sideways to give him some room.

"What are you doing here, Peralta?" He jumps on the couch and off again, with the skateboard in tow. "Shouldn't you be off rearranging your sock drawer or something?" He does some minor spins and tricks in front of me. "Or did Stacy force you to come here? Huh?"

"The latter," I reply.

"What latter?" he says, confusion dazzling in his green eyes.

I'm spared to answer when someone in the distance yells, "What's the Virgin Mary doing at P.O.P.?"

I groan, then glance toward the voice's direction; a soaked Tony Alva trudges up the parking lot, towards us. He evidently just finished surfing. He leers at me, while Jay continues doing various twirls on his skateboard.

"Stacy brought me here," I impatiently explain, looking away at the scenery in hopes that they'd get the hint and go away.

"Why?" fleers Tony. "He didn't think you'd actually accomplish something out here, did he?"

I snap my head to glare at the Hispanic, moppy-haired teenager standing in front of me. "Why, you don't think I could make it out there?" I indicate the waves that are crashing against the sand bank.

Tony leans on his board to give me a derisive look, and Jay raptly listens to the argument that was unfolding.

"You wouldn't even be able to _swim_ out there, Peralta. You're _that_ pathetic."

I glare at him, contemplating the insults I can hurl at him. "Pathetic? You're the one who measures his masculinity though how many waves you can surf. When in the end, it won't matter because you'll be an out-of-shape high school drop out, digging ditches for less than minimum wage."

"Meanwhile you'll be what?" He tilts his head, as if to survey me. "A pencil-neck librarian who _still_ hasn't been laid?" Jay laughs at this.

"The thing is, Alva, girls aren't testosterone-pumped freaks who think about sex every eight seconds. So stop thinking that they are."

"You think you can surf the Cove?" he snaps. "Go ahead, we're not stopping you."

"I don't know how, dip shit," I say without a beat, rolling my eyes at him.

"That's what I thought," he says with an air of extreme smugness. "You can't surf for shit. Go home and cry to your mommy about it, for all I care." He begins mimicking a baby's cries, much to Jay's amusement, who guffaws in delight.

"Is that supposed to be a challenge?" I snap angrily.

"No, sweetheart, it's a fact of life." Having felt like he'd gotten the last word in the quarrel, Tony throws down his skateboard and rolls out of the parking lot. I scowl in his direction and audibly growl in contempt, receiving a strange look from Jay.

Out of all the Z-boys, Tony Alva was definitely the one who taunted me the worst. From day one, our egos had clashed. Jay wasn't as bad, because he wasn't as concerned with verbal fights as he was with physically humiliating me.


	2. The Cove

Dogtown: Recipe for a Blackhole

* * *

**Chapter 2. The Cove?**

* * *

  


"Why is Alva such a dick?"

The question evidently throws Stacy off, because he looks at me with flushed cheeks. He and I are walking down a boulevard, on our way to Venice High School. Half the Z-boys were skating toward the school, already several blocks ahead. The other half simply decided to ditch the day.

"Did you guys have another fight?" says Stacy after a minute of silence.

"What gave it away?" I say sardonically. "The fact that we have arguments every time we come into contact with each other?"

"That's just how he is, Eden," says Stacy abashedly. "If you give him the wrong vibe, he doesn't pussy-foot around. But you shouldn't worry about him."

"He's a bully, Stacy, how am I supposed to just forget about him?"

"I think you're overreacting."

"He insulted me over the little fact that I didn't know how to surf!"

"Well, you can't really blame him," Stacy mumbles under his breath, in hope that I wouldn't overhear him. At seeing the outraged expression on my face, he rushes to explain: "I mean, it's kind of an oddity here if you don't know how to surf. It's a big thing around here."

"Yeah, I noticed," I say, eyeing the various shabby local shops inhibiting the street. "The localism here is absurdly high. Did you know that those guys who hang out at the Zephyr shop called me 'kook' for the first week? I really hate it here, Stace."

Stacy eyes me with concern. "Well, it's Dogtown. I think you'll learn to love it eventually--" I scoff. After a pause of silence, Stacy turns toward me with a new excitement, apparently having been hit with an epiphany. "Hey, if it bothers you so much, I can teach you how to surf!"

I laugh in incredulity. "Me? No. You've got the wrong girl. Do I look like someone who surfs?" I was of course referring to my out-of-place appearance--ivory pale skin, a slender figure, and dark red hair cascading down my back; I looked like I lived anywhere BUT California.

Stacy shrugs casually. "It doesn't matter what you look like, anyone can do it. C'mon, you wouldn't get any more crap from the locals if you surfed the Cove. And I know for a fact that you want to be the one who wipes that smirk off Tony's face."

That last statement alone was able to persuade me.

--

After the miserable day of school ended, I walked down to Venice's local beach, where Stacy had asked me to meet him. Unlike the Cove, the beach was allowed to locals and non-locals alike. And on top of that, it was much less dangerous.

To pass time, I begin to trudge along the rocky shores, carefully dodging the jagged pebbles that littered the beach. A warm Californian breeze swept across my face. I stare out at the ocean, basking in how beautiful it was.

Finally, in the distance I see Stacy's outline riding up on a bicycle down to the boulder that I sat on.

"Sorry it took me so long--had to stop by the house to pick up your bathing suite, then had to go down to Skip's shop to get a board and wetsuit. I hope I got the right size," he held up a black and red wetsuit. I nodded, saying it looked appropriate for my body size.

"Thanks," I grab the suite and find a tree to get undressed behind, too impatient to walk half a mile to find a bathroom. I strip down to my skin, throwing my clothes behind a bank of sand, and then emerged to dip my biggest toe into the icy water, where tiny ripples quickly erupted then disappeared. Goosebumps run up and down my spine at the chilliness of the salty ocean. Meanwhile, Stacy had already dove head first into the cold, cruel ocean and was beckoning me to come into the water.

Pretending to be braver than I was, I plunge in after Stacy. Blue eyes flutter open beneath the water's surface. All that meets my eyesight at first was a threatening blackness - panicking, I instinctively thought that I was deeper in the water than I wanted to be. I wildly kick my legs and rise to the surface. When I broke, I look around to see that I'm only ten feet away from the shore. There are seagulls circling the clothes that lay undisturbed in the sand.

I let myself have a brief, shaky chuckle before treading the water. Stacy pushes his surfboard in my face and tells me to sit on it. I follow his directions, struggling a little to climb onto the board without it slipping away. Today was going to be a tough day.

* * *

Yet another ocean wave surges past our shivering bodies and Stacy begins bellowing criticisms at me for having missed the opportunity. "What the heck was that? You didn't even paddle! You're not gonna get any momentum that way..."

I take a sulky second of rest, gulping in some of the ocean's dirty water. Needless to say, surfing had turned out to be way more challenging than what I had perceived it to be. I had an idea that it would just be standing on top of a piece of foam.

"Hurry up, before you miss this one!" he shouts, pointing at the next wave rearing up behind us.

I throw my aching arms forward n order to accelerate myself through the chilling water. Stacy is floating off to the side on top of another board he borrowed, and yelling instructions at me over the loud crashing waves. My stomach churns in uneasiness as I remember the hot dog I had for lunch earlier today, feeling like the nonstop movement of the ocean was going to make me hurl.

"Hurry, or you'll miss it!"

"I'm TRYING!" I snap.

"Okay - stand on your board now!"

For the umpteenth time today, I make an attempt to stand up properly on the board without losing balance. I grip my feet the board and slowly push myself upward as a tiny wave begins to push me along the water. Because it's one of the smallest waves of the day, I am finally able to keep standing for the first time. For a good fifteen seconds, I'm balanced on top of the board as it floats along the water.

"YEAH! Good, Eden!" Stacy congratulates me for my first victory of the day. "But, just as a warning, that was a baby wave. Next time, when your doing a bigger one, you're gonna have to get closer to the wave and lean forward into the wave so it can push you. Do you get me?"

I nod, pretending to know what he was talking about. Wasn't that just what I was doing?

"Ready, Eden?"

I pull myself on top of the board and paddle like mad when I see another wave rising. This one is bigger, Stacy's words ring in my ears. When the wave touches my feet, I tilt the board sideways while simultaneously pulling myself into a surf stance on the board. I lean forward, and to my great surprise, I don't lose my balance; the water shoves me forward into momentum. I was surfing!

* * *

"Let's go, Sid, this place is a dump!" slurs Skip at the brown-haired kid who's picking up a broom. Sid waves at Stacy as he enters the shop with me in tow.

Skip raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees me, soaked in water and carrying a red board.

"So you're the one who stole my board," he chides after taking a drag out of his cigarette.

"Yeah, Skip," says Stacy, sounding sorry. "We needed an extra one to teach her. I promise we would've paid for it had it broke," he says quickly.

I walk up to the counter and hand Skip the board for him to take. "Yeah, well," says Skip distractedly, eyeing the cluttered shop for a space to put the surfboard, "it's not like I can call the cops on you, when your smart enough to know what goes on in the back room, right? Aha!"

He finds a wall to set it against. Stacy approaches Sid and begins telling him about his surf session with me today. Sid is the Z-boy who treats me with the most decency, but that was because he didn't have a mean bone in him. However, that didn't stop him from the occasional joke toward me, which I knew were all in good fun.

"So you finally rode the wave, huh?" coughs Skip, waving a large cloud of smoke out of his face.

"Yeah," I say while slowly inching away from the smoke that threatened to intoxicate my lungs. "You know, smoking drives some customers to leave a business, uh, Mr Engblom."

He snickers at my usage of 'Mr Engblom' and says, "It's Skip, kiddo. And you're, uh, Erin, right?"

"It's Eden," I tell him distastefully.

"Right, Eden. Do your uncle Skip a favor and tell your step-bro that if he 'burrows' a board again, I'll personally kick his grommet ass."

"Well, how much are they?" I ask, trying to remember how much change I had saved in my secret stash at home.

Skip suddenly seems more interested in me, a potential customer, and leans forward on his counter to tell me, "Twenty to thirty dollars. Twenty five for the one you just used."

I don't hear the last part, seeing several skaters halt outside of the shop and pile in all at once. At the sight of Tony, I grab Stacy by the shoulder and drag him away from the conversation he was holding with Sid. "Time to make like a tree, Peralta."

"Bye Sid! Oh hey, guys," Stacy greets cheerily.

"Dude, you missed this gnarly wheelie that Jay-boy pulled off!" One of the guys I was less familiar with slowed Stacy down in his path toward the door. I glance to see Tony eying me warily, noticing the ocean water that was dripping from my hair.

"I said, let's go!"

I grab Stacy again and forcefully pull him through his crowd of friends and out the door. There was no way I was spending more time than necessary with them.


	3. Through the Small Tall Bathroom Window

Dogtown: Recipe for a Blackhole

* * *

**Chapter 3. Through the Small Tall Bathroom Window**

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Stacy continued to guide me in learning how to surf. According to him, I was showing improvement everyday, but I couldn't trust Stacy because sometimes he was too nice and considerate to tell the truth.

Every day Stacy taught me new things, like how to arch my back, what the wetsuit was for (other than to get wet in), making sure that my body is aligned with the center of the board, who Larry Bertleman was, and how to time myself when troubleshooting. My mom didn't exactly approve of surfing because the sport is considered "antisocial", but she was glad that me and Stacy found something to bond over.

Legally, Stacy and I had became step-siblings a month ago when our parents had wedded. But we hadn't grown close to each other until recently. Surfing had closed this huge, awkward gap that had been between us; before, we had been strangers, roommates living together in the same house.

This closed gap was apparent when one night, he knocked on my bedroom door and walked in.

I sit up from my lazy position on the bed, where an Algebra textbook was strewn across my lap. Stacy finds a stool to sit on too.

"I think you're ready," he says with a serious expression on his face.

My eyebrows arch and I smile, "Okay, fine. Ready for what?"

"To surf the Cove."

My muscles suddenly tense. I had been waiting for his approval to surf the Cove, I just hadn't expected it so soon. "Are you sure, Stace?"

He nods. "You've gotten really good, Ed. Better than me, in some ways." I shake my head in disbelief. "I think you're completely prepared. At least, more prepared than I was when I first surfed the Cove."

"You were an eleven year old twig--in what way were you supposed to be prepared?"

He shrugs with a smile tugging at his lips. "So tomorrow morning, I'm gonna wake you up at about five. Then we're gonna go out through the bathroom window. Is that okay with you?"

"Why do we have to sneak out?"

Stacy sighs. "Because, my dad. A few days ago he found out that I've missed first and second period for a week now because of surfing. He doesn't want me going in the morning anymore."

"Sucks for you."

"I can tell your broken over it."

-

It's disgusting, just how early Stacy wakes up to surf. As promised, Stacy shakes me awake in my bed, where my Algebra textbook stumbles off the bed. I barely manage to glare at Stacy through my half closed sleepy eyes. He waves his surfboard in front of my face to remind me of our conviction to surf.

Within minutes, I'm dressed and walking to the bathroom. Stacy has already climbed through it and was at the side of the house, picking up a bicycle. I look through the narrow, but tall bathroom window next to the toilet. I've never had to climb through a bathroom window before, and somehow it makes me feel dirty. Stacy whistles for my attention, and gestures for me to climb down. First I stick one leg out the window, followed by another leg. The fall is clumsily pulled off. Stacy offers his hand to me, which I take.

I ride Stacy's bicycle to P.O.P, while he uses his skateboard. We don't bother with light conversation because he knows that I don't feel like talking right now; my nerves are eating at me. The knot in my stomach grows bigger as we come closer to Ocean Park. When we arrive at the scene, there aren't as many people as last time. I see Jay picking up discarded trash littered across the bank and in the distance there is a head of untamed, sun-bleached hair in the boneyard, catching the lost surfboards.

Stacy approaches Chino for direction in the kind of jobs we're getting; Chino, probably the scariest local I've met, dictates that we're to "keep it local" in the parking lot. This is what I had dreaded; this meant that if any Vals did come along, me and Stacy would have to resort to illegal means to render them off. I know from personal experience, because the first day I went to P.O.P. the guys had mistaken me as a Val.

Stacy heads to the parking lot, with me in tow, and falls onto the couch. I realize just how tired he is, because he had chores and homework to do last night. He wasn't naturally talented in school as he was with surfing. A couple of minutes later, he begins dosing on the couch, but I'm too heartless to wake him up or to tell Chino.

I freeze at the sound of a new car pulling into the parking lot. I whip around to see a trio of shirtless men climb out of the car; there's no doubt about it that they're Vals. I'm not sure whether to wake up Stacy, tell them to leave, or just scream to Skip that Vals are here. It's my job to get rid of them, what am I supposed to do?

One of the younger guys, about nineteen years old, winks at me as he passes by.

"Going surfing, little lady?"

I glare at him in contempt. "This is a locals-only spot," I bluntly tell them. They stop walking to look at me like I was an alien from Mars.

"What?"

"I said, locals only," I say, crossing my arms in impatience. "You need to surf somewhere else."

The last guy whose unpacking slams his car trunk shut. "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm the girl whose telling you to get the hell outta here," I snap, rolling my eyes. "Either you leave, or you deal with them." I say, pointing at the guys in the ocean.

I catch a glimpse of Wenztle shouting, "VALS are here, guys!" at the surfers. Evidently, more heads turn my way, making me uneasy. If I didn't make the Vals leave now, I'd look bad.

To my dread, the Vals guffaw in my face and walk past me. Great, now I looked like an idiot to the Vals and to the locals. Suddenly, an idea comes to save my ass. I notice a pair of keys hanging from the dashboard in the Valley car. Skip and his cronies from the shop are already heard in the background, telling the Vals to fuck off. The three men ignore them, ready to fall into water. Now is my chance to take action: I slide into the Val driver's seat and use the dangling car keys to start the ignition. I back out of the parking space.

One of the roaming Z-boys in the parking lot stops to stare at me in shock, and then runs over to Stacy to wake him for the show. I honk the horn for a 6 second spree to catch the guys' attention. I roll down the window to hear.

"Shit, THAT'S MY CAR!"

I rejoice to hear everyone down at the beach laughing their asses off. I put the stick shift to 'Drive' and screech forward out of the parking lot, into the middle of the highway. I halt the car in 'Park' and climb out of the driver's seat. On my way back to the parking lot, the three guys are glaring and yelling insults at me.

"What's your problem, bitch?"

"I said locals only, asshole," I jeer back, and jog back down to the pier. The Z-boy, Wenztle I think is his name, is laughing nonstop, and Stacy simply gapes at me. "What?"

"Where'd you learn how to drive?"

"My dad taught me," I relay.

I hear a wolf-whistle and turn toward the bank: Skip waves us down. When I arrive, a lot of guys playfully shove my shoulders in their own congratulatory way. "Nice job, Erica."

"Eden," Skip was the one who corrected them. "Alright, you earned it. Go out there and surf, wahine. Yeah, you too, T.A." I freeze in my tracks. 'T.A.' was Tony Alva's nickname around here, as was 'Mad Dog' when he got angry.

"Here," says Stacy quietly, handing me his surfboard. "Don't worry about breaking it. I've broken a billion boards out here before. Just relax."

I zip up wet-suit and hug Stacy for good luck before charging into the ocean water. I hear another behind me, which I know is Tony. With each nervous stroke, I hit the water with my hands cupped and my elbows bent while reaching onward. The movement became fluid, and somehow relaxing for me, to calm my nerves. When a powerful breaking wave comes, I do a duck-dive by pushing the nose of my board underwater and swimming forward.

We both stopped far enough out sea and an awkward silence fell over us for the first time. What was I supposed to say to him? Hell would freeze over before a normal conversation would come between us. And I didn't feel like bickering, out of fear that he may tear down my confidence right before I take on a wave.

The first wave breaks... I sit up straighter and begin to paddle, however, out of the corner of my eye, I see Tony's muscles tense as he leans forward. As the wave comes, I hold back so there aren't any fights. To my surprise, though, Tony didn't take the wave. I look at him for an explanation. He was equally glaring at me as if expecting me to go.

"I thought you were taking the wave," he snaps.

"Yeah, so did I," I reply flatly.

Off in the distance, the guys are booing that none of us went for the wave, "Perfectly nice wave wasted, man! C'mon, ya pussies!"

I brace myself for the next wave that breaks. Droning out all the noise in my head, I prepare to launch myself onto the wave; however, I didn't count on Tony Alva doing the exact same thing at the same time as me.

"I got it! I got it!" I shout at him, still moving forward.

"No way, dude, I've got the perfect position - MOVE!"

There was no way I was able to turn back on the wave at the rate I was going, so I kept swimming forward, and popped up on the board. There was a small hope running inside me that Tony would back down to my aggression...

I was wrong. It was dangerous to be riding a wave at the same time, which is why the locals wouldn't let non-locals swim at the Cove. Both of our surfboards eventually collided into one another at the climax of the wave; we got sucked under the rush of the water.

I emerge from underneath the surface and gasp for air. Tony comes up shortly behind me, and the yelling match begins.

"What the hell is your problem? I told you, I had it!

"Don't talk down to me, puto. Fucking kook trying to snake me."

"Asshole!"

* * *

"Dude, why is your sister such a bitch? I could've had that wave!"

Tony, Stacy and Jay sat at the back of Montoya's truck, enjoying the ride. What they didn't know that the window dividing them between the front seat, which was where Montoya and I sat, was paper thin so I could hear nearly everything they said about me.

"Yeah, well," says Stacy timidly, "she doesn't take anything while lying down. She's not someone you want to piss of, T.A."

"Yeah? Neither am I. I'm not gonna let some little girl take my spot."

"You're just pissed 'cause she snaked you," smirked Jay, who was jiggling with Montoya's things in the back. "Dude, you gotta sneak one of your step-sister's bikini tops when she's not looking."

"Why?"

"So I can suck on them!"

"Dude, no, ew!"

I roll my eyes, not only at Jay's immaturity but at the excessive use of the word 'dude'. Don't they have anything else to call each other?

"Bro, did you see that Bertlemen thrust Skip did?"

Of course--how could I have forgotten 'bro'? I lean back in my seat uncomfortably. Montoya gives me a slight smirk and says, "It's always toughest the first day, Red."

"The surfing was okay, it's those guys I'm getting sick of."

* * *

"You ripped today!" says Stacy encouragingly, as Montoya's truck pulls out of our driveway. "Seriously, I mean besides the first wave, you blew everybody away."

Ignoring Stacy, I walk into the house and head straight to my bedroom without another look back. On the way through the hallway, I see my mom rummaging through a basket of clothes for some article of clothing. Her head snaps up when I enter the hallway.

"Eden. You went to school, right?"

I blink. Didn't she trust me? "Yeah, mom, like how I go to school everyday. Why?"

"I'm just making sure. What with you running around with Stacy, you know that crowd he runs with. Listen, I have something important to tell you." She sets down the clothes of basket and looks at me with exhausted, worn eyes. "Your step-father got laid off today."

"What?" I ask in shock. "Why? What for?"

"He came into work late for the fourth time in two weeks and he was... a little buzzed."

My jaw falls open. "He came to work _drunk_?" My mom winced at the harshness of my tone. "Mom, just what kind of guy did you marry?"

"Oh, hush! Don't talk like that, Eden--"

"Dad would have never come drinking, or late," I tell her snidely.

The facial expression on my mom's face darkens considerably. "True, your father was a working man. Too much of one, in fact. He spent more time at work than he did with you."

"Better that he brings the bacon home than nothing at all," I quip.

"Look, I'm not arguing with you. I need you and Stacy to be looking out for some part time jobs."

I place a hand on my hip and look at her defiance. She stands her ground though.

"You're ridiculous! You want me to get a job just because your own lazy husband can't pay the rent!"

"SHH!" She threw a conspiratory glance down the stairway, afraid that Aaron would overhear my rant. "It's not like that. He'll be back on his feet again in no time. Meanwhile, you and Stacy will be earning some extra cash on the side." The woman then sighs again, her stern expression softening. She gets closer and places her manicured hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry it's like this, Eden, but that's just how it is. Everything will be fine in a couple of weeks, I promise."

I shake my head in shame and pull her hand off of my shoulder. "Whatever. But at least half of my paycheck is going to buying my own ride."

She snorts in disbelief. "Yeah, like you'd be able to afford one on a five dollar an hour salary."

Another voice interrupted our conversation. "Afford what on five dollar salary?" We turned around to see it was Stacy climbing up the stairs.

"A car."

He grins, "You know, I was just thinking of getting one of those, since I'm turning sixteen in a few months."

I throw my mom a smug look, before saying, "Great, then we can both work for the car and pay for it together."

"Yeah, if I had a job," says Stacy wistfully.

I give my mom yet another look, and walk to my room to leave her to explain the situation to Stacy.

* * *

"Registration forms?" I ask the lady at the counter. The woman in her late thirties with a wild 60s hairdo looks at me in slight disdain and surprise. "I'm here to apply for a job here."

"Honey, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," I lie. It was only a year off. "And I'll be turning seventeen in a little bit."

The woman rolls her eyes and reaches behind the counter to reach a piece of orange paper. She hands it over to me with great reluctance, along with a crappy half-sized pencil without an eraser.

_Name: Eden Jean Verbeck/Peralta_

_Address: 9069 Coulter Blvd_

_Venice, CA, 90291_

_336-8669_

_Position applied for: Waitress_

_Salary desired: 6 dollars an hour_


	4. Don't Own A Car, Dude

_**AN: **_Thank you to my lovely reviewers, you guys are awesome. I'm sorry if I haven't responded to each one of you individually, but I have this policy where I only respond to the ones with questions, feedback, or interesting observations. Sorry, but if all you've got is "great job!" then I won't respond. But I do appreciate all reviews, don't get me wrong.

Remember, constructive criticism is welcome, and your thoughts on my fic is encouraged! Hope you enjoy my next installment

* * *

**Chapter 4. Don't Own a Car, Dude**

* * *

Stacy wakes me up before the crack of dawn again. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. I swat my fist at him in an attempt to get him to leave me alone, but I can't reach him from beneath my bedsheets. He really needs to understand the concept of sleep. After pulling on my red converses and an Iggy Pop t-shirt, I meet Stacy at the base of the stairs.

"I just realized that my bike has a flat," he says before I can even catch my breath. "It's gonna take us just a little longer to get to Ocean Park. Unless," he adds with a edge of uncertainty, "you want to try skateboarding."

I raise my eyebrows at him in question.

"You think I'd be able to skateboard?"

He cleared his throat, "Well, it's not as hard once you can surf. The only difference is the ground isn't moving, and you have to watch out for rocks and pellets and stuff."

"Jesus, Stace, can't you just get a car already?"

He snorts in disbelief. "Yeah, I wish. Nobody owns a car here, dude."

I roll my eyes, suppressing the urge to yell at him for calling me 'dude'. It had to have been a slip up, anyway. "Fine, I'll try it," I tell him. " But if I can't get the hang of it, then we're walking."

He nods and tosses me one of her older skateboards that didn't work as well as his new one. I examine the chipped wood and the clay wheels attached at the bottom. I've seen Jay Adams ride barefoot on these kind of boards, which was insane.

Stacy and I head out the house once we grab our backpacks. This time we don't have to sneak out because Aaron has already forgotten about his regulation against surfing in the morning. The man in question was inside the bathroom, shaving his beard in preparation for the job interview he was going to. Stacy immediately takes off down the street on his skateboard. I gently set the used one on the pavement and place my feet firmly on top.

Soon, I'm gliding down the street on top of the skateboard. Stacy was right, it was relatively easy if you knew how to surf. However, these thoughts of ease quickly evaporate; one of the clay wheels slides over a tiny pebble on the street and the board skids out of place. I fall, almost face first, on the street.

"Are you alright?" I hear Stacy ask me concernedly in the background. "Remember what I said about those rocks."

I pick myself up, ignoring his offered hand. "I'm fine," I tell him moodily, grabbing my discarded backpack from the ground and dusting it off. The rest of the ride over, I'm able to keep my balance without falling again. But there were some near instances of my tripping. I can't roll as fast as Stacy, so we go at a slower rate for my benefit.

When we arrive near Ocean Park, I stop riding. I didn't want any of Stacy's friends to find out that I had skateboarded to P.O.P.. For some ambiguous reason, I would find it embarrassing if they saw me. It's probably because they're all much better skaters than I am.

Unlike yesterday, this time I hadn't received odd stares from the locals for being at the Cove. Instead, I was briefly greeted by Stacy and some of Stacy's friends. Shogo, an asian boy who barely spoke English, smiled and waved at me.

"Shogo," I greeted. He was in my Advanced Algebra class, and I was lucky enough to get a desk right behind him; he was really sharp with math so he usually answered faster than most students. I like Shogo because he's a little on the shy side, which makes him less volatile than the other Z-boys, like Stacy.

"Peralta!"

A force suddenly pushes me forward from behind and I nearly crash into a piling of wood. I angrily snap my head back, ready to yell at whoever had shoved me. But when I see that it's Jay with an amused smirk on his face, my anger suddenly vanishes. It was more of a gesture of playfulness than mean-spiritedness. That was how Jay was; he communicated through physical affection and facial expressions rather than verbal indications. "You gonna charge today?"

"It's why I'm here, right?" I reply. "Except... crap, Stacy, I forgot my wet-suit."

Stacy fades away from his conversation with Tony and stares at me. "Are you wearing a bathing suit underneath?"

"Yes. But the water is frickin' cold. There's no way I'm swimming in it at this time of day. I'd rather wait until the waves turn warmer."

"You can borrow mine," interjects Jay. "Skip keeps my spare stuff in his truck. I think you could fit in it--your only four inches under my height."

"Really?" I ask, taken aback my Jay's sudden consideration. "Okay, problem solved." I shrug at Stacy and head toward Skip's truck. Jay's audible footsteps indicate that he was following behind me.

Jay does an energetic leap onto the vehicle and sifts through Skip's surfboards to pull up a tattered backpack. Instead of reaching in, he opts to dump out all the contents onto the bed. Out falls two blocks of surf wax, a broken clay wheel splintered in half, some wrinkled dollar bills, a Zeppelin t-shirt and a wadded up rubber wet suit. He unfolds the wet suit and hands it to me.

"Nice collection you've got there," I say with my eyebrows raised. "Where am I going to get undressed though?"

Jay grabs one of Skip's surfboards and jumps off back again. He holds up the board to indicate him covering me between the board and the truck. I snort at the idea, but eventually accept that it's my only option.

I point an accusatory finger at Jay and snarl, "Jay Adams, if you peek at me--"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll kick my skate-punk ass," he rolls his eyes with impatience. "I know. Besides, it doesn't matter, I've seen it before."

He throws me a filthy grin when my jaw drops in shock.

"Have not!"

"Have too," he says without missing a beat. "Remember last month, me, Sid, and T.A. were over your house? You had just come out of the shower and the towel slipped a little--but you didn't know we were watching."

I can feel my face burning up in embarrassment. Instead of replying, I simply tug the surfboard upward to cover myself and begin unstripping my clothes for the wet-suit. To my relief, Jay isn't trying to sneak a peak at me, as promised. When I finish, Jay tosses the board back in the truck and begins literally skipping back toward the beach.

I laugh at his mock playfulness. Sometimes I really did like Jay. He was 100 percent Z-boy, which subtracted brownie points, but he cracked me up a lot. Unlike Tony, who took himself much too seriously. All the Z-boys had large egos, but Tony Alva's ego was bigger than all of theirs combined. At least Jay had a smidgen of modesty, if not much.

"Ah, my favorite surfer chick!" slurs Skip when I appear on the pier after Jay.

"Your only surfer chick," I remind him, staring around at the male-ridden beach. "Now will you let me surf already? Or do I have to clean up this toxic wasteland again?"

"Somebody's touchy this morning," Skip teased while taking a long drag out of his blunt.

"Don't you know, dude?" Tony suddenly butted in, not one to miss an opportunity. "PMS. Girls have it."

My scowl at the Mexican goes unnoticed. Skip must have been in a good mood, because he lets all the "grommets" surf today without cleaning up the pier. Jay is the first person ripping the ocean, followed by me, Tony and Stacy. I have a better handle of my surfboard than I had last time. Stacy, always being the optimist, once again notices my improvement and commends me. However, I'm not able to return the favor because when Stacy goes on his wave, he crashes and falls under.

All of the woots and cliched "ooh"s are heard from the guys clustered on the beach. Stacy eventually pops out from the water with that famous rosy blush of his. Within the last few days I learned that Stacy wasn't the best surfer in the world. He was average at the most. The best ones in the area were Jay, Skip and a few of the older locals.

After I get done with my wave, I sit on a rock that was intentionally distanced from the other people. However, nobody apparently gets my message, because Sid finds a spot right next to me, followed by Jay and Tony. Stacy decides to stay out in the ocean for another try, unsatisfied from his wipeout performance last time. I decide he'll be out there for awhile because the Cove's waves are beginning to die down as the sun rises.

"What are you doing here, Baby Sid?" asked Tony jokingly. "Shouldn't be at Skip's shop, being a dillhole like always?"

Sid gives Tony a shove in the arm and shrugs. "I just haven't been to the ocean for a while, you know?"

"Why don't you surf, Sid?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Oh, I've got this equilibrium problem with my ear. The doctor says loud noises make me woozy or unbalanced. So, you can imagine, if I'd actually went out there the waves noise would probably make me faint."

I smile apologetically and nod in understanding.

"So, uh, Eden?" asks Sid, undoubtedly confident that he had managed to keep a conversation with me without pestering me. "What are you gonna get Stacy for his sixteenth birthday?"

My back stiffens as the new news that it was Stacy's birthday sets in on me. The guys look at me, expectant facial expressions, but all I can give them is a look of perplexity.

"I... didn't know it was Stacy's birthday," I admit quietly.

"Oh, man, he forgot to tell you!" shouts Sid, amused at the situation.

"Is it today?"

Jay shakes his head. "No, next week, on Sunday. We were kinda hoping that you'd have something, like, planned because we've got nothing."

I give Jay a look of incredulity. "Well, why were you guys relying on me for it? Why couldn't you guys plan something yourselves?"

Sid shrugs with a slyness. "You're a little more dependable than us. I mean, Stacy has had some pretty shitty birthdays--ones that we've simply forgotten about. A few that his own parents forgot about." My stomach tightens at the revelation that his own parents forgot his birthday. "We figured you'd have some ingenious plan because you're smart like that."

I flush in embarrassed flattery. I look at Jay and Tony to confirm if they shared the same sentiments as Sid. Jay wasn't even paying attention though, choosing instead to stare out at the ocean in contemplation of whatever the hell went through his head. I wasn't sure if Tony was tuned into the conversation; he was currently using his fingers to trace human anatomy drawings into the sand. He seemed engrossed by it, perhaps too engrossed, as though he was pretending not to listen.

"Okay," I tell Sid in a faux voice of defeat. "I'll try to whip something up. Maybe everyone can pretend that they forgot again and then throw him a surprise party."

"Not bad," smirked Sid. "And he'd totally buy it too--I think he's actually expecting us to forget."

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" I shout when I walk through the door.

Instead a warm welcome, all I hear is, "Oh no, you're dripping onto the carpet!"

My mom drops the quilt she was knitting, tells me to stay where I am, and darts up the stairs to retrieve a towel from the dryer. When she returns, I take the towel and run it over my shoulders.

"Where's your step-brother?"

"Out job-hunting again," I say while kicking off my red converses. "Aaron has been nagging him a lot lately. Ever since I stole his job at the Venice Noodle Company."

At the mention of the diner, a bright smile flits onto my mom's face. "Oh, hon, speaking of which, I got a phone call from that restaurant this morning. They want you to come in for a training session!"

I interrupt her mid-squeal to stupidly ask, "Does that mean I'm hired?"

"More like on probation," she said with a seriousness. "Basically, they'll be testing and training you and a couple others to see who gets the job."

"You mean I have competition?" My whiny voice betrays my obvious disappointment. "Oh yippie.

I collapse onto the couch, careless about being yelled at for getting the couch wet. But my mom doesn't seem to care or notice, because she simply walks out the room, telling me when the session is and what time I'll have to be there. Monday, 5 o'clock.

I join her in the kitchen as she starts preparing a sandwich. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and sit at the stool parked in the counter. "How's Aaron with his new job?" I ask conversationally.

"Fine, except his boss doesn't like him too well. It was a mutual loathing from the beginning, so don't get any ideas that it was Aaron's fault."

"Are you guys out of debt yet?"

"Almost there, we'll be fine by the next time Aaron's second check rolls around. Aaron's brother, Rob, has offered to help us out. Even offered to sell his old junk car and give the profits to his brother. Nice of him, huh?"

I mull over this new piece of information while slowly savoring the orangey, tangy flavor swishing in my mouth.

"What kind of car? Does it still work?" I ask in nonchalance.

"It's a Le Baron. And I hope for our sake, it works. No one's going to buy a car that doesn't run."

Mom finished packaging the sandwich on her plate and pushed it over to me. I smile in thanks and bite into the ham sandwich. Mom still babied me sometimes, even if I was mature enough to do nearly everything by myself. I didn't mind it because I preferred the security and warmth.

"Unfortunately," sighs Mom, "the car is a piece of junk. Even if it did run, I doubt anybody but a desperate new teen driver will be interested."

My eyebrows shot up above my hairline as an idea struck me.

"What happens to the car if nobody buys?"

"He'll probably end up giving it away to a junk yard."

I smirk. "Well, I've got a better alternative, mom. Why don't you give it to Stacy for his sixteenth birthday?"

I saw the lines of her face freeze in sudden realization. "Stacy's birth... Oh my god, Stacy's birthday!" She clapped her hands to her mouth in shock. "It's not today, is it?! Oh god, and Aaron said we couldn't forget--that he'd be heartbroken!"

"Relax, mom!" I shout, placing a hand on her hyperventilating shoulder. "Look, it's next week! Don't have a heart attack. Anyway, me and the guys were planning on throwing a surprise party. And it would only seal the deal of the sweetest sixteen if Rob gave the Le Baron to Stacy."

Mom looks at me, surprised that her daughter was so wonderfully responsible and considerate.

"That would seal the deal," she agreed, slowly letting her hands fall from her mouth. "Ooh! I've got to call Rob and tell him not to sell the car." She dashes across the room to pick up the receiver off the wall and dials a set of digits.

"A surprise party, huh?" she asks while waiting for the other phone to pick up. "That would be a great idea. Oh, I've got to call Aaron after this."


	5. Lily

_**AN:**_ This is where the story is twisting around. I'm adding another OC. Eden is still the main character, but I wanted another girl thrown into the mix because there are too many boys! I was gonna make Peggy or Kathy be the best friend, but that just didn't work here. So, introducing Lily. If you hate her or whatever, tell me and I might cut her. I still haven't decided though.

I'm submitting a lot of first draft chapters here, so forgive me if the writing is poor. I just want to finish this thing, I might actually finish my first fic. And once I do get done, I figure that's when I do the rewrites. So mostly you'll see dialogue and action sequences, and very little narration. If you want more narration, I'll of course comply and revise the chapters.

Sorry that it's short. I'll try making the next one longer.

* * *

Chapter 5. Lily

* * *

Ronna, the same woman from the Venice Noodle Company with the wild 60s hairdo, takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the ring right in my face.

"Since the other two idiots failed to show up," growls Ronna, "it looks like it will come down to you two."

I glance at the girl who I was competing with for the job. She was very pretty, with dark brown hair running down her back and hazel blue eyes. She was shorter than me by a centimeter, and had a friendly, warm smile and face. I figure since the girl was Miss Personality, Ronna would hire her instead of me.

"Say you've got the job," says Ronna, suddenly turning toward the girl. "Your chores are to sweep the back room, clean the cash register, swipe the counter, and refill the napkin retainers. Now repeat what I just said."

The brunette stares at her in confusion. "Do I actually have to do those things? Is this a test?"

"No, hon, repeat everything I told you back to me. This is to see if you're listening skills are sharp."

"Oh, right." The girl flusters, having already forgotten most of what Ronna had said. "Right. Swipe the counter, clean the register, uh, sweep the room... uh..."

"Napkin retainers," Ronna finishes her sentence. "Refill the napkin retainers. Run it over again."

I stifle a sigh. Was this really what the work force was like? Prolonged suffering?

The girl, I think her name starts with an L or something, tries again. "Fill the napkin retainers, swipe the register, sweep the back room--"

"Clean the register, and swipe the counter."

Ronna now had a look of annoyance etched on her face. L begins panicking at her failure, and begins stuttering the rest of the way. "Um, sweep the counters--no, the back room, clean the register, uhm, the napkin retainers..."

Having given up on L, Ronna looks over at me. Before she can let a snide mark slide out of her lips, I say, "Sweep back room, clean register, swipe counter, refill napkin retainers. Anything else?"

"Yeah," says Ronna, taken aback at how well I did, "don't be a smart alec with me. I've got a ten-hour shift and I don't wanna deal with teenage snots who want an extra buck to pay for their beer and condoms." I bite my tongue, squirming at her insulting tone. Beer and condoms? "Now, I'm gonna get a word in with Phil, and once I come back out I'll tell ya who's hired for the job."

Ronna walks through the slide door, leaving L and me in private. L collapses on a nearby chair and looks at me through her stress.

"Well, congratulations, because I royally screwed up my test."

I felt a smidgen of sympathy for her.

"If it's any consolation, I'll probably be fired by the end of the week," I tell her. She smirks up at me in question. Her smile is pure and sweet, like she was still a little girl. "I'll most likely bomb in front of the customers," I further explain. "I don't respond to well toward people."

She sighs. "I don't know why I even came. It's not like anybody would want to hire me."

"Then why did you come?" I found myself asking. I, for some reason, wanted to get to know her better. She just seemed like a amiable person. And not the type of outgoing, loud-mouthed girl whose popular at school. She had a pureness and sincerity about her that I liked.

"Oh. To pay for a camera. My parents already bought me one for my twelfth birthday, but that one broke several weeks ago. I was hoping to raise money to buy a new one. I can't go too long without photography, you know?"

"Where do you develop your film?" I ask to keep the conversation going.

"I have a dark room at the house, but I haven't been able to use it lately. My red light-bulb is out."

I gape in astonishment. "You have your own dark room?! Your parents must be rich," slips out of my mouth.

She blushes, and shrugs in modesty. "Sure, I guess."

"This camera of yours, how badly broken is it?"

"I don't know," she says, happy to leave the subject of her rich parents. "I accidently dropped in and some pieces fell off. I don't know of any local repair shops so I just figured I should get a new one."

"Actually, I know of this guy. His name is Craig Stecyk. He's a local photographer who knows a ton about camera mechanics. He can probably hook you up to someone who knows how to fix cameras, maybe even do it himself."

Indeed, Stecyk was one of Skip's pals who always hung out at the shop. He was a little eccentric, claiming that what Skip and the guys did was "an art form." He always had a camera around his neck, and often snapped shots of the Z-boys whenever they were in the middle of a impressive skate maneuver.

She blinks in surprise and smiles that sweet smile again. "Really? That would be really cool of you! I mean, if you really would like to help me out. Um, my name is Lily, by the way." She holds out her hand for me to shake.

"Eden," I say, repaying the gesture. "I can give you my number. Call me up and we can arrange everything in a few days."

"Thanks a bunch," she says in gratitude. "I mean, it's so nice of you to offer me help even though we just met and everything. I mean to say, the people here, from who I've met so far, they're not the friendliest bunch, you know?"

"God, how I know."

* * *

"Phone, Eden!"

I race down the staircase of our house and into the kitchen, where I pick up the receiver. However, my mom snatches the phone out of my grasp and holds it to her shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"A friend, probably. Not a boy, obviously. Can I have a social life now, or would you like to deprive me of that too?"

"How did Venice Noodle Company go?"

"She gave me the job," I tell her, outstretching my hand for the phone again. "My first paycheck comes this Wednesday. I work everyday after school from four thirty to nine." I snatch the phone from mom and shoo her out of the kitchen. "Hi Lily."

"Hey!" her enthusiastic voice from the other side responds. "So did you talk to the guy yet?"

"Yes. Stecyk says he's willing to take a look at it. Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Well, it's Sunday, so other than going to church in the morning... Yep, I'm free. Where are we meeting?"

"Do you know where Bicknell hill is?" I ask.

There was a long pause, I sense she had no idea what I was talking about. "Alright, I'll tell you the directions. First you go on Bailey Street--"

"No, no, I know where it is... I just, I'm not sure if I'm allowed. I mean, my parents have told me some things about that area."

"Dogtown?" I say amusedly.

"Yea, I guess that's what the local junkies call it. Isn't it kinda dangerous in that part of town?"

"Without the daylight it is," I assure her. "But don't worry, I'll be there to meet you, make sure you're okay. Hey, I'll even walk you home if you're feeling jittery."

There was another pause of contemplation on her end of the phone. "Okay, I'll get my parents to drop me off. So where on Bicknell hill?"

"Who are you talking to?" asks a voice aside me.

Stacy is rummaging through the refrigerator, and ends up taking out a cartoon of orange juice. Instead of pouring a cup, he gulps it from the jug.

"Stacey, ew! I don't want backwash!"

"Who's Stacy?" asks Lily.

"My lame step-brother who needs to _reevaluate his manners_. Anyway, there's a shop on the street called Zephyr shop. It sells surfboards and skateboards. There'll probably be some boys hanging out at the front, but don't get intimidated by them. If they start harassing you, no big deal, just move on."

"Do you get harassed everyday by them?" There was a frightened tone to Lily's voice.

"No! I mean, well, _kinda_, but it's not like that. I know those boys. They are my brother's friends." I pause for a moment, lingering on the fact that I had left out "step" in "step-brother" in a Freudian slip. Was I already thinking of Stacy as my real brother? "Anyway, they won't always treat you like that if you got to know--"

"Oh shit! Sorry, Eden, I gotta go, my parents are home," she says in a rushed voice. "I'm not supposed to use the phone without their permission. I think I can get to the shop from what you tell me. Bye."

"Wait, what time?"

"Noon. See ya."

"Bye--" The phone hangs up before I finish the word.

"Who was that?" I'm surprised to see Stacy still here, screwing the lid back onto the orange juice carton.

"A friend," I snap. "Jesus, why is it so hard for people to believe that I can make friends here?" Stacy raises his eyebrows at me. "Anyway, her name is Lily. She's into photography, like Stecyk. I'm calling in a favor for her."

"Good for you," says Stacy while heading out the room. "But if I were you, I'd get to the shop early, before she's left alone with the guys."

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"


	6. Shogo Plans to Rule the World

* * *

**Chapter 6. Shogo Plans to Rule the World**

* * *

_A sales department_ - oh, how boring - _wants to make a 12 percent profit on its product_. Kill me now. _If the cost of the product is 87 dollars, what will the selling price of the product have to be achieve the desired profit_? Wait, what?

I read over the passage again, perplexed at what it was asking.

"You look like you're 'bout to spontaneous combust." Shogo is speaking. I've already learned his speech patterns and broken English grammar from all of the times I've asked him for help.

I tear my tired eyes away from the textbook page. Shogo and some other skaters had just come back from skateboarding around town. It was an obsessive compulsion with them: If they weren't surfing, then they were skating. It was that simple. I, on the other hand, had to deal with school, work, which barely left me time to surf. Therefore I rarely skated, and I wasn't interested in doing so either.

"Don't you mean I look like I'm about to spontaneously combust?" I correct Shogo. He shrugs it off and sets his skateboard down on the counter that I was sitting on top of.

"Check out my board, man, T.A. put some Dogtown art on it."

I flip the board on its backside and see an intricately drawn cross, with the word 'Dog-town' spelled in graffiti.

"Gnarly, huh?" He basks in how sweet his board looks. "Hey do you want help with that?"

"I don't think I should," I shake my head. "I've already copied enough off of you. If I don't start doing my own work then I won't learn anything."

Sid, apparently overhearing me from his position behind the counter, snorts at me. "And they say I'm the dork around here? I don't compare to your standards." As Sid is walking by I reach over and shove his head.

"Alright, if you're sure," says Shogo. "If you change your mind I'll out back, uh, with milk and cookies." Around here, milk and cookies was code for something illegal or disgraceful. I give Shogo a look of disappointment.

"You have so much potential," I tell him. "Here you are just wasting it."

"I'm not wasting potential!" he claims, with a smile on that made him like slightly high. "I've plenty of plans for the future."

"Is that right? Like what?"

A blank expression creeps onto his face. For a moment he truly looks to be lost in his thoughts. Fortunately for him, Sid comes to the rescue.

"Shogo has the potential to rule the world, dude."

Shogo's face lights up in a smile again. "That's right! I use my crazy ultimate Chinese technique and math skills to takeover the world. How's that for a future?"

I purse my lips and shrug. "Not bad. Except I think you'll need to learn all of the components of the English language before you take over anything. That's just a given."

"Will you pecker-heads stop littering my shop?" A voice emerges from the back room. As Shogo disappears through the door, Skip comes out looking irritated. "Find a job, buy something, or get out!" He grabs a magazine off a shelf and begins swatting at some of the Z-boys lingering in the shop.

Half of them scatter, taking off on their skateboards, while the other half stays and pretends to be working.

"Get off the counter, Red," he instructs me, lighting up a new cigarette in his mouth. I close my textbook and slide off the counter.

"Is Stecyk here yet, Skip?"

"Yea, he's somewhere out back with Chino and Montoya. Probably taking pictures. Says he'll be out here in a few."

As if on cue, the bell door jangles, and in walks Lily with a backpack hanging over her shoulder. Several pairs of eyes fall onto her all at once. A sudden wave of guilt and regret hits me. Lily stuck out like a sore thumb. While most people in Dogtown wore ripped jeans, t-shirts, flip-flops and beach-washed hairstyles, Lily is dressed in what looked to be a catholic school uniform, complete with the white button shirt, skirt, and tie hanging from her collar. It was glaringly obviously that Lily was a Val, and the locals didn't take too kindly to Vals.

To top it off, Skip was in a mad mood, which only meant Lily was going to get it even worse than normal.

"What the hell does this look like to you, honey?" asks Skip, giving her a hard look. "A five star bed and breakfast? What are you doing here?"

Lily's mouth opens slightly as she flounders to answer him. She no doubt was surprised at Skip's harshly blunt words as soon as she walked in. "I, uh..." Her hazel eyes find mine in the group of onlookers.

"She's a friend, Skip," I say quickly to mend the situation. "I invited her."

Skip snorts, unconvinced. "Yea, well, that doesn't stop my policy. Locals only, sweetheart!" he tells Lily loudly. "Go find a kook shop down in kooksville."

"Skip! I didn't invite her all the way down here just so you can call her kook and kick her out."

"What makes you think you're the exception, huh?" Skip asks me quietly, even though that didn't stop all the guys from hearing his words. Speaking of which, most were amused with the scene unfolding in front of them, even Sid was intrigued.

"Please, Skip, just this once," I plead just as quietly. "I promise I won't ever ask you for anything else like this again."

But he isn't given the opportunity to answer, because the back door opens once again. Stecyk walks out with a cloud of smoke following him and an antique camera strapped around his neck. I walk over to Lily, who had stood there the entire time looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I bring her over to Stecyk without another word to Skip.

"This is the guy who I was telling you about," I say. Everything seems to go normal again, as the chatter of the shop returns and Skip starts fiddling with his cash register out of boredom. "Craig Stecyk? Lily Bruinn."

Lily shakes his hand and shakily proceeds to tell Stecyk how she broke her camera. She reaches into her bag and pulls out the lens, and other various disjointed camera parts.

"Aw, piece of cake!" bristles Stecyk. "This can be fixed within the hour, sweetie," says Stecyk, taking some of the camera parts into his own hands.

As Lily and Stecyk fade into a conversation about camera mechanics, I feel a hand latch onto my arm and somebody pulls me to the side of the shop. Jay pulls me farther away so that neither Lily or Stecyk can hear. He and Tony back me into a corner for trap.

"What is this?" asks Tony.

"What is what?" I reply, playing dumb.

"That," snaps Jay, pointing at Lily. "What did you bring her here for?"

"She's a friend who needed help with her camera! Why is everyone freaking out about this!"

"Because she's not one of us," explains Jay in a harsh tone of voice that he's never used on me before. "She's a Val, Eden. Her parents own ferarri's and lawyers while she lives in a trophy house on the nicer side of town."

"Oh, and what?" I say in a high-pitched, defensive voice. "Sid doesn't live on the corner of Pleasantville and Marigold? Who cares if she's rich?"

"That's different," says Tony. "Sid is like a brother to us. We've known him since we were kids."

"And she's just some outsider looking to find her Beatles to Yoko with."

Tony nods in agreement. "That's true, dude. Girls are always trouble with us."

Unconsciously, my hand retracts to my hip as I glare them down. "Oh really? Is that what you guys thought of me when I first moved here? That I was going to be your Yoko?"

"No," says Jay quickly. "All I cared about was how hot you were."

On instinct, both Tony and I hit Jay. I sock him in the gut while Tony slaps him in the head with his hand.

Tony, rolling his eyes in irritation, continues over Jay's moans, "Look, we knew you weren't that big of a deal, because you weren't interested in dating us. No one flirted with you, you flirted with nobody else, and that's how it should've stayed. Her on the other hand, we can't be sure of. She'll probably fall for someone lame like Stacy, then some other dude will end up jealous and all the sudden the gang is broken up over a chick. A spoiled rich white one, at that. That's how it works."

"You guys are such pigs," I give each of them a dirty scowl. "I can be friends with whoever I want! And if Lily happens to attend the same social functions as me, then that's too bad for you. On the plus side, you won't be seeing much of her because I try to avoid you morons anyway, on the account of I hate you all!"

"Don't be a bitch," says Tony, with another roll of his eyes.

"News flash, I am a bitch!" I say louder than I intended. "And you'll just have to deal with it. Oh, and by the way? You can forget that I ever offered my help for Stacy's surprise party. I can't stand working with either of you."

I try to shove past their blockade of shirtless bodies, but I'm stopped when Tony roughly grabs my wrist and spins me back around.

"What are you talking about?" yells Tony, his eyes flashing in anger. "You said you'd help!"

"I've already gotten my present for Stacy, so why should I take it further and help you guys? You treat me like crap, and frankly I've had enough of it. You're on your own. Have fun explaining to Stacy why he has such shitty friends."

With that, I reclaim my wrist from Tony's grip and walk back towards Lily. I glimpse over at Tony and Jay one last time, to see them glaring at me and whispering about what to do about Stacy's birthday.

* * *

"Ok, ok, hold the pose!" shouts Lily, adjusting the knobs on her camera to get it in focus. Stacy is using his arms to hold his body facing upward, while his feet stayed glued to the skateboard on the ground. It was like a push-up being done backwards. As Lily takes her time adjusting the knob, Stacy's arms begin to shake from the weight of his body.

"Uh, Lily? I don't know how much longer I can take it..."

"Sorry," grins Lily. She takes a quick snap of the photo and stands up. Stacy collapses onto the ground. We were all at Paul Revere Middle School. Most of the boys were skating up and down, enjoying the playground's smooth cement turns and shoulders.

"Oh man, I'm already out of film!" says Lily, noticing the 0 on her number reel. "Forty something pictures already. You guys make for some interesting art."

Stacy laughs and takes a seat on top of a picnic table. Lily joins him. I grin knowingly, wondering how long it would take for them to become betrothed. The pair had immediately hit it off from the first moments they met each other, unlike the reactions Lily got from Jay and Tony. Jay had given her a wet willy when she wasn't watching, and Tony "accidentally" slammed his skateboard into her heel on the way over to the school.

Sid joins me at the separate picnic table I was working at.

"Still working on that math homework?" he asks with a smirk.

"Yes," I say miserably, reminded that I still had a page and a half of questions to finish. "By the time I'm done, I'm thinking of writing a five-page essay on the evils of Algebra homework and how it's poisoning the student mindset."

"Sounds fun," agreed Sid. "I myself would be working on a similar project of a ten-page complaint letter to the faculty about the evils of Physical Education, except I can't." I stare at Sid in curiosity, waiting for him to explain why he couldn't. "You see, I'm too busy worrying about what we're doing about Stacy's b-day. I mean, his so-called step sister was supposed to aid me in my quest of redemption, but her ego got in the way, so now she's abandoned me."

I frown at Sid. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, Sid, but you can't blame me. Alva and Jay have acted like totally assholes toward me since day 1. Do you really expect me to give them a break? Especially since they're hating on Lily now? I actually have a real shot at making a friend out of her. My first real friend since I moved here."

"I'm sorry if they're trying to blow it for you," says Sid, although without a hint of apologetic tone. "But this isn't about T.A. or Jay. It's about Stacy, about making him happy."

"I'm not going to swallow my pride for it, Sid. I won't just sit and let them push me around. I wasn't programmed to take that."

Sid shrugs. "Just don't forget that you can always reprogram yourself to think differently." He stands up and stretches his limbs.

"Hey." A voice behind me interrupts my reverie of thought. Lily sits next to me, I notice the other picnic table is now empty and Stacy is skating around the playground like the rest.

"You and Stacy seem to be hitting it off," I smirk. "So when's the wedding reception? Tell me I get to be bridesmaid!"

She blushes heavily before giving me playful shove in the shoulder. "Shut up. Anyway, I'm not sure. I like Stacy and all, but he seems a tad naive."

"Naive how?"

"When I tried asking him out, he took it as a friends thing and said the guys would love to come along."

"Oh... Well, hate to break it to you, but I think he's still recovering from the last crush on a girl. You heard of Kathy Alva?"

"Tony's sister? Yep, I've heard that she's been around the block a few times."

"Stacy has been infatuated with her since they were kids, or so he tells me. He's still pretty hung up on her."

Lily sighs. "I hate competition. You saw me cave under pressure the day of our interviews."

I laugh. "Yea, that was pretty pathetic. If you want to spend time with Stacy, though, maybe ask him to teach you how to surf."

"I've already learned, though. Well, at least a little bit."

"Then pretend that you don't."

She smiles. "That's not a bad idea. I mean, I'll be able to ask him by next weekend, since my parents will be out of town--"

"Your parents are out of town?" says Sid loudly, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. His speed on his skateboard slows down considerably and he stares at Lily with hopeful eyes.

"Yea, they'll be in the Bahamas," answers Lily. "Why?"

"Oh," shrugs Sid. "Just curious. Lily, right? I think you're in my Lit class."

"I think so. Sid, is it?"

She holds out her hand for him to shake. Sid steps forward off his board, takes her wrist and instead of a handshake, he delivers an over-the-top kiss on her knuckle tips. I roll my eyes at the cheesiness of it all, but Lily is thrilled, because she gets into a fit of giggles and does a mock curtsy.

"I'll leave you two love birds to your business," I tease, packing my textbooks into my backpack and taking off.

I climb through the crack of the fence surrounding the middle school, when suddenly I hear, "Do you need me to walk you home?"

The last person I expect to ask, besides Tony, is Jay Adams. But there Jay was, on the other side of the fence staring at me dubiously. "I mean, there's that rapist on the loose, right? Wouldn't want your pretty little redhead to be warped by him."

"I think Ill be fine," I tell him stiffly. "I've got mace. And if you think that by being nice to me, I'll change my mind about the party, then forget it. My decision is final."

I stomp down the street, my head whirling over Jay's antics. I was glad that Stacy had agreed to walk Lily home for me, as I had to leave home early for homework. If I had stayed there any longer, I probably would have exploded.

* * *

"Where the hell is Stacy?"

I stare at my step-dad in mild surprise. He wasn't always so on edge about things, but today he was full-out anxious. Of course, it was understandable, seeing as today was Stacy's birthday.

Aaron, my mom, and I had baked him a lemon cake (his favorite), which he had gladly eaten for breakfast this morning. Both Aaron and my mom had given him fair gifts, while I had thrown together a crappy hand-made card which Stacy had believed was "heartfelt". What he didn't know was that my real present for him was chipping in for his new car. Every check that I was going to get from the Venice Noodle Company would be sent to Rob to pay off the debt.

We sit on our front porch, pondering where Stacy went and waiting for Rob to arrive any minute with the Le Baron. The plan had been to have Rob come with the car and surprise Stacy with it at the end of the day.

"He's probably at his surprise party," I inform Aaron.

"Surprise party?" Aaron repeats, his mouth falling open in anger.

"His friends had different plans from us. They're throwing him a party, separate from our familial celebration. I guess they stole our thunder."

I rethink my disappointment. Stacy doesn't like parties in the first place, especially the ones Z-boys throw. He'll probably end up shyly retreating to the backyard porch all night, watching his friends throw a drunken parade for him. When he gets here, the car will definitely take the cake.

"Well, do you know where the party is at?" says Aaron with an irritated glance at his wrist watch. "I don't have all night. There's a Bears game on in twelve minutes!"

"They kept it a secret," I say. "This is exactly what they do, especially when it comes to me. But I think I know where it is anyway."

The sound of a revving engine is heard in the distance. A black coated car pulls into our driveway. An insipid version of Aaron pops out of the car door.

"Hey hello!" he cheerily greets. "Where's our birthday boy?"

"Out," I say simply.

"I don't know what to do, Rob," sighs Aaron. "The game starts in ten minutes--I don't feel like running around town looking for Stacy."

"I can find him," I interrupt. "I already know where the party is probably at. I can just drive by and show Stacy his new car, he'll be so stoked that he'll just take off from the party."

"I don't know," says Aaron doubtfully. "What are you, fourteen? I don't think you should drive."

"I've got a permit, Aaron."

He considers me for a moment in silence.

"C'mon, Aaron, let the kid go!" interjects Rob. "She looks like she can take care of herself. We'll miss the game!"

"Right," I agree. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't know how to drive really well. You know me by now, I'm not stupid."

Aaron sighs, caving into the peer pressure. "Alright knock yourself out." He shrugs at Rob, who reaches into his pocket and produces a set of car keys to the Le Baron. "But I want you home in two hours. No less. No boys, no booze, and no toking. Are we clear?"

"Yea," I say, grinning at Aaron's usage of "toking". I grab the keys from Rob's hand and climb into the driver's seat. The middle-aged brothers meander into the house for their beloved football game. Too bad for them, they'd have to explain to my mom how they let her fourteen-year-old daughter drive without supervision.

The engine come to life with the turn of my wrist and I slowly reverse into the street.

I figure the party is either at Tony Alva's place or at Lily's. Nearly every Dogtown party is an Alva party, because his dad has a night shift until six in the morning. Which meant no parental supervision, which was perfect for them. Apparently, Tony's mom left when he was a kid, but I don't claim to know the entire story.

The Le Baron cruises down Tony's street. I glance at the shabby house, which badly needed a new paint job. But there was no loud music emanating from the house or any kind of aura that there was a party. All of the lights were out. I turn the steering wheel and begin driving toward the nicer part of town.

Lily's house was my second suspect. The poor girl had been looking for reasons to impress the guys all week, and letting them host a party at her house was the perfect loophole for her. Also, Sid had seemed all too happy about her parents visiting the Bahamas a week before.

The neighborhood I pull into has picture-perfect lawns and estates. All of the hedges are trimmed green evenly and even the mailboxes match. I try to remember which number Lily's house was at. Was it Vaser Road Number Six or Number Seven?

I give up trying to remember, instead searching for the house that looked like there was a party inside of it. At the end of the block I find a three-story white house with rock music 'I Just Want to Make Love to You' blaring out of the windows. The front door was wide open with smoke billowing out. This was without question where the party was at. I parallel park the Le Baron into the nearest empty spot on the curb.

When I step out, there's a dizzy teen on his hands and knees, vomiting into a bushel of roses. When he hears my footsteps, he looks up from his drunken stupor and shouts, "Hey man, party of the century right at this place! Join the fun!" He proceeds to blow chunks into the bush.

I carefully move past him, a grimace of disgust etched on my face, and walk through the front door. The party was at full blast. Empty plastic cups and peanuts littered the floor, a crowd of teenagers were drunkenly swaying to the Foghat song, and the kitchen had a strong aroma of marijuana flowing from it. At the top of the marble staircase, a group of rowdy teens were ready to sled down the stairs into a pyramid of empty beer cans.

The house was a huge mansion inside, including a tall ceiling and numerous glass cases of professional photography. Lily's parents seemed to share the same love of photography. The house would have been nice, without the presence of party-goers invading the luscious space.

I sigh at the state of Lily's house. This is what happens when you let the Z-boys take over a nice get-together.


	7. The L Word

* * *

**Chapter 7. The L Word**

* * *

"Eden!" says Lily is surprise. "God, I'm so sorry!" she shouts over the loud music blaring overhead. Luckily, the song stopped and a new one came on, more melodic and soft--All the Young Dudes, by Mott the Hoople. Lily began explaining herself. "Jay told me that the surprise party was going to be a surprise for you too. By the time Stacy showed up you weren't with him, and that's when I figured it out."

"I understand. It's fine. Can we find a more private area to talk?"

Lily nods and drags me through the living, kitchen, into the backyard where a young couple was making out on a lawn chair.

"Sorry again," says Lily, sounding genuinely apologetic. "They had made me swear not to tell."

"Relax, Lil. I was just wondering why you let the party happen anyway? I mean, they're trashing our house. You can't say you didn't expect it."

"Don't worry!" Lily smiles. "A month ago my parents hired a housemaid, Maria. She will come by here tomorrow morning and help me clean up the mess. By the time my parents get home, they won't have any idea there had been a party here."

I try to be understanding, but I couldn't suppress the bad feeling I had. What if something went wrong and a party-goer trashed Lily's house? Well, trashed it more than what it was now. Before I'm able to voice my opinion though, the glass door slides open and Stacy joins us outside.

"Hey, I'm glad you made it to my party," smiles Stacy. "I was beginning to worry that my friends didn't invite you."

"Oh, they didn't. I invited myself along."

"Ah." Stacy's smile widens, as though things were made clear now. "Great party, by the way, Lily."

"Are you kidding?" says Lily as her eyebrows shoot up. "It's a mess in there. Half the people here don't even know that it's supposed to be for a birthday. I can't believe I let Jay and Tony take advantage of me."

"Don't be so shocked," I assure her. "They do this all the time. Lack of parental guidance results in lack of ethics every time."

"So do you guys want to get back inside?"

Stacy and I meet eyes for a second before shaking or heads and yelling, "Nah!"

"Well, I kind of have to," sighs Lily. "I mean, who knows what will happen to my house if I left it unsupervised?"

"I suppose I can help you," I add. "What are friends for, right?"

"Thanks. What about you, Stacy?"

"I think I want to stay out here." He shrugs shyly. "I prefer the quiet."

"Yea, right. Have fun watching Romeo over there suck on Juliet's face." I'm referring to the couple feeling each other up on the lawn chair. I trail behind Lily as she enters the house again. As soon as the slide door shuts, Lily spins around at me, excited.

"You have to let me date your step-brother! He's so cute."

I cringe. "I didn't know you needed my permission."

"Well, I do. I mean, it would be kind of weird of me if I suddenly started dating him out of nowhere. If I had a brother, you'd so have to ask for my permission!"

Before I can give her my "okay" a voice interrupts our conversing.

"Is that you, Red?"

I turn around to face a smiling Kathy Alva. Her best friend, Blanca, was standing behind her while chugging a beer from a plastic cup. They were obviously both intoxicated, and maybe even high. It was a well known fact that girls at parties got drunk quicker than guys did, because the intake of beer affected their systems easier.

"Hi Kathy," I greet politely. "Blanca. How's it going?"

Kathy smiles at Lily. "Hey, bitchen' party! All of the cute boys are here.

Blanca, who had downed the last sip of beer, turned to Kathy and pointed out at the backyard. "Speaking of which, there's Stacy Peralta. Damn, has he grown tall since I last saw him."

"And cute!" chimes in Kathy. "Damn, chica, why didn't you tell me your step-bro has gotten hot?" she asks me.

I search Lily's face for a reaction. Lily's body language clearly indicated awkwardness and jealousy.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," says Kathy without hesitation. She hands her drink to Blanca and heads for the door. Kathy was normally very nice and bubbly, but whenever she had a few drinks in her system she'd turn bold and aggressive, to a fault sometimes.

"What about me, huh?" whines Blanca, who didn't want to go through the night friendless. "I need a ride too, you know!"

"Have Tony walk you home or something," says Kathy, opening the slide door.

"I broke up with Tony a week ago!" shouts Blanca, but to no avail, because Kathy already had the slide door shut and was chatting up Stacy. Blanca desperately looks at me and Lily, unsure what to do.

"You're in luck," Lily informs Blanca. I arch an eyebrow at her. Wasn't she supposed to be giving these girls the cold treatment over Stacy? "Some people have volunteered to be designated drivers."

"Who are they?"

Lily shows Blanca into the living room, and I follow. As they enter, Lily is about to point out her two supposed volunteers when she notices the boys in question were in a beer chugging content with a group of seven other guys.

"What the hell?!" shouts Lily, though the music is too loud for anyone to notice. She, Blanca, and I head back to the kitchen where our eardrums are treated better. "Crap, what am I going to do? Like 99 percent of the people here are too drunk or high to go anywhere. If anyone dies returning home, I'll be to blame!"

"Don't even worry about it," I say. "I'll be the designated driver for your party, Lily."

"But you don't have a car."

"Or a license for that matter, girl," adds Blanca. "You're what, thirteen, fourteen?"

"I've got a permit!" I repeat the second time that night. "Besides, how do you think I got here? I drove. I've got a car out front. I can take you home when you're ready, Blanca."

Blanca nods in gratitude, then throws one last dirty look at Kathy and Stacy through the glass door before heading back to the living room. Once the chicana leaves, Lily crosses her arms at me.

"I think these pot fumes are getting to your head, Eden. You don't have a car!"

"Think again." I grin. "My step-uncle gave Stacy his Le Baron, a.k.a., he gave us his Le Baron. The days of scrounging for rides from over-indulgent locals are over, my friend."

"Ah," says Lily knowingly. "Thus comes the new age of scrounging for gas money for your guzzler."

"But I need to start driving people home now," I said with an impatient glance at the kitchen's clock. "I promised Aaron I'd be home in two hours. I've already wasted ten minutes. It's your house, Lil, and therefore your duty to end the party early."

Lily sighs. "I'm afraid to do it, though. I don't know what they'd to do me. They expected the party to run all night, it's only been going to two and a half hours."

"Then you should lie. Tell everyone the cops are coming. Or better yet, tell them your parents' trip got canceled so they're coming home early."

"Right. Could you help me? I'm a little shy."

"Fine, let's do it. First we've got to cut off their music though."

Lily clutches onto my wrist as we swim through the throng of people, and up the staircase. The boys at the top are hollering at us to move but we ignore them. Once we reach the top, we enter a sort of drawing room very similar to the living room. Lily fiddles with a set of speakers until the music shuts off.

There are a series of groans and yells emitting from the crowd downstairs. "Where's the music, man?"

Lily and I push our way so that we are standing on the stairway looking down at the rest of the party.

"Alright, listen up you little teen creams!" I shout overhead, immediately catching the attention of thirty something bodies. "The host of the party has an announcement to make so shut up!"

I turn to Lily to signal it's her turn.

"Uh," says Lily with uncertainty. Her face burns red from the embarrassment of public speaking. "Well, my parents called..."

"SPEAK UP!" someone calls out, and there's a murmur of agreement that no one can hear Lily's mumbles.

I rub Lily's shoulder for support. Seemingly gaining a new wave of confidence, Lily loudly announces, "My parents called a few minutes ago! It turns out their flight was canceled and they'll be coming home early!"

There was an outburst of anxious chatter in the crowd. No one got the message that it was time to leave.

"Didn't you hear?" I interfere once more. "The party's over, vatos, we're busted! Start clearing out now!"

The crowd finally begins to disperse.

"Oh, and if anybody needs a designated driver," Lily adds lamely over the scattered people, "Eden here is offering her services."

Blanca walks up to us. "I've got a group of girls from my neighborhood who can us a ride home."

"Alright, let's go. See you around, Lil."

However, when I reach the bottom of the stairs my path is blocked by none other than Tony Alva.

"That's bullshit!" says Tony. "You didn't get no phone call. Your parents left, like, yesterday so how can their flight be canceled when their not even on a plane?"

"Oh, shucks!" I snap my finger in sarcasm and glance at Lily. "Tony caught us! Well, I guess nothing can past you, Alva! Now move."

I shove past Tony and head out to the street, where many teens had taken the route of walking home. Blanca brings me to a group of unsteady girls waiting in the middle of the street, shivering at how cold the night air was. Most of them were drunk and disoriented. I motion for the girls to follow me and open the car door of the Le Baron. They stumble inside the back while Blanca takes shotgun.

"Thanks a lot," says Blanca while strapping a seat belt on. "It's nice to know there are still decent people in Dogtown."

--

After the third round of driving teens home, I return to Lily's house once again. The house was really beautiful once all of the drunks cleared out.

"Almost everyone is out," Lily tells me.

"Who's still here?"

"Stacy and Kathy are in the back still, having the time of their lives," I couldn't help but detect the bitterness in her voice. "Then I think Sid is in one of the bedrooms upstairs with a girl. Thunder Monkey. Oh, and some other Z-boys are here still, trying to revive the party."

"Sid can walk home because his house isn't too far away. Thunder Monkey will probably want to leave with Kathy so I'll leave them here for now. I'll find the boyz and drop them off at their houses. I'm guessing their in the kitchen?"

Lily nods in response and climbs up he stairs to warn Sid and Thunder that the party has ended. I trudge into the kitchen. Some of the guys who I was less familiar with, like Biniak and Red Dog, were sitting with Shogo at the kitchen table, passing around a joint. Tony was rummaging though the refrigerator. He had a grocery bag in his hands, and I realize he was stealing Lily's own food because there was probably a shortage at his own house. Jay was making faces pressed against the sliding glass door at Kathy and Stacy, but their couldn't see because their backs were turned.

"Alright, everyone, get up! Come on, we're leaving!" I announce to the room. Most of them ignore me or throw me strange looks. "I said let's go! You're going home. I said, get UP!" I snatch the joint from Red Dog's lips and stomp it out on the floor.

"What the hell, man?"

"Already, I think we should get up," says Shogo dazedly, standing up from his chair. The boys follow him out, all except for Tony. On his way out, Jay gives me an unreadable look. I wonder how drunk he was.

I look to Tony expectantly. He simply glares back with his arms crossed. "They're the ones who are high off their asses, not me," says Tony. "I don't gotta do shit you tell me to."

"Well, that's nice," I say with a bitter resentment. "So then, I won't tell you. I'll ask you kindly to go out front and let me drive you home."

"'I'll ask you kindly to go out front and let me drive you'," he mimics me in a high-pitched voice.

"Don't be an asshole, T.A.!"

He leans his head and back against the fridge door. "Let's get something straight, little girl. I don't like you. You just busted a perfectly nice party you weren't even invited to, and now you want to play the rule-abiding citizen and drive me home."

"I know you hate me!" I fire up, wondering how we even got into this fight. "What, you think I haven't noticed? You hate me for no reason, other than the fact that I try to be a decent person!"

"You're so full of shit!" He too is getting angry. "Don't try to pull that holier-than-thou cum with me! I hate you for plenty of reasons, each justifiably."

"Well, I could care less about what your contrived reasons are, so you can just stuff it!"

Before he can come up with another retort, I snatch the grocery bag filled with Lily's food and walk out the room. My plan works, because Tony subsequently follows me outside into the driveway, where the rest of the guys were hanging out.

"Give my shit back, Peralta!" he growls angrily, reaching out for the food. Keeping the bag out of his reach, I grab for my car keys and climb into the Le Baron's driver's seat. Jay, Shogo, Red Dog and Biniak pile into the backseat. I glance out the window and catch Tony, pissed that he was that easily dogged by me. He shakes his head and falls into the passenger's seat, making sure to slam the door shut on his way. I hand over the bag of food and turn the keys in the ignition.

--

Unsurprisingly, the car ride home was hell. It was a nonstop loud and wild ride of thumb wrestling wars, charlie horses, lighting up yet another joint, and yelling "SPEED WOBBLE!" in my face. The only quiet one beside me was Tony, who was still sulking over the ruined party. He kept grumbling about how this wouldn't have happened at his own house. During the journey, I also had to keep pulling over and threatening to kick the boys out if they didn't put out the joint. That was the only boundary line I drew.

The first stop is Red Dog's house.

"Shit," says Red Dog. "I can't remember if you turn on Mulberry street or Halibut Avenue first. Shit."

This and circling the block lasted for another ten minutes until Red Dog found his apartment complex and took off. With a sigh, I glance at my radio clock, which read 11:54. I was already an hour and 54 minutes late from the curfew Aaron gave me. Mom was going to yell tonight. We head to Biniak and Shogo's neighborhood.

"Hey, Eden? That's your name, right?" slurs Biniak, leaning forward over my seat.

"Yea, don't wear it out."

"Hey, Eden," he repeats. He was clearly drunk out of his mind. "Uh, I think Jay-boy is in love. With you, I mean."

My hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel. I uncomfortably glance in the rearview mirror to see Jay's reaction, but he has his head stuck out the window, waiting to yell at the next passerby.

"Did'ya hear me, Eden?" giggles Biniak. "I said Jay-boy loves you!"

For some reason, I look over at Tony. I suppose because he was the only one close to soberness in the car. Tony is staring icily ahead. But this time the cold expression was different from the sulky one he had over the party. Sensing my stare, his hazel eyes dart at me with a questioning glint. I quickly avert my eyes back at the road.

"Oh man," groans Shogo, almost sounding sick. "You just sold out your boy, Biniak. Jay is gonna kill you."

"Will you fuckers shut up for once?" snaps Tony, clearly irritated. He leans forward and turns the radio one so he didn't have to listen to their drunken ramblings anymore. He sifts through each radio station until a Bob Dylan song comes on. But when I hear the lyrics, I groan because the boys start sining along. It was "Everybody Must Get Stoned."

_They'll stone you when you're trying to be so good_

_They'll stone you just like they said they would_

_They'll stone you when you're trying to go home_

_They'll stone you when you're there all alone_

_But I would not feel so all alone_

_Everybody must get stoned!_

What a horrible song. And I liked Bob Dylan!


	8. TA's Place

_**An:**_ Wow, I am so extremely sorry at the belatedness of this chapter! I feel like such a bad author. But I got distracted with the end of school coming near (we were given final projects to work on). I'm also having a hard time with getting through this fic. Sorry, it always happens, after the first five chapters of any story I start, my writing gets sluggish and I lose my inspiration for the story. But I'm going to try my hardest in finishing this. Especially this summer! Anyway, I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, but at least I updated! REVIEW!

Btw, I totally used the hamburger phone gag from Juno.

* * *

**Chapter 8. T.A.'s Place**

* * *

"Oh God," moaned Jay, sticking his blonde head between my and Tony's seats. "I think I'm gonna be sick, dudes."

"What?" I ask in concern.

He nods while clutching onto his stomach.

"Not up here, dude!" yelled Tony, moving toward the window. "Go back there!"

I scowl at Tony's complete lack of empathy for his friend. "We'll pull over, Alva." My eyes roam along the darkly lit street, searching for a spot to park. I couldn't find a parking lot because we were far away from any stores and Jay probably wouldn't be able to hold in his vomit. I sigh when I realize that I would have to parallel park.

I find an empty space between two convertibles parked to the side of the street. I back in extremely slowly, so slowly that Tony had to sigh at how ridiculously cautious my driving was. I spare him a glare, not in the mood to get into yet another heated argument with him. That was the only thing we seemed to be doing lately.

I was only halfway through parking the car, with the vehicle facing diagonally toward the street, when Jay suddenly opens the door and lungs out of the still moving car. "Jay!" I yell angrily, because the back tire came dangerously close to running over his heel as he fell out.

Jay finds a nearby tree and vomits onto the patch of grass below it. Tony groans and then chuckles, torn between disgust and amusement. Afterward, Jay wipes his mouth and stumbles back into the car, with an embarrassed glance at me. His green eyes avoid mine for the rest of the trip home.

Some time later, I pull over in a alley right outside Jay's place.

"We're here, Jay," I tell him softly.

Instead of simply using the car door, Jay fully rolls down the car window and climbs out. I roll my eyes. After Jay falls out onto the street pavement, I put the shift stick in reverse. But before I can take off, Jay rasps on my driver's window. I roll it down to hear what he has to say.

He sticks his blonde head in through the window and drunkenly stares at me with unfocused eyes. For a minute he just stares, and I uncomfortably wonder whether he's about to kiss me or not. But with Tony making a loud cough in the background, Jay seems to change his mind and shrugs.

"Good nigh', Ed."

"Night, Jay," I say flatly.

"Thanks for the riiiiiide." He makes a V sign with his fingers, which I suppose would stand for Venice, and backs out of the window. With a huffy sigh, I finally back the Le Baron out of the alleyway.

"You remember where I live?" asks Tony beside me.

"Yes."

Tony looks in through the rear view mirror, where Jay is climbing up the stairway that led to Philaine's apartment. "He is smashed, dude."

"What do you expect?" I say, glad that there was something to talk about with Tony, instead of an awkward silence coming over us. "You guys party every weekend; and alcohol has a stronger effect on the teenage body than it has on an adult."

I steer into a bigger intersection and drive five miles under the speed limit.

"Shit, Peralta, my grandma drives faster than this," complains Tony. "Speed it up a little."

"No! It's in the middle of the night, I'm underage, you're probably a little drunk--if we get pulled over do you know how much trouble we'd be in?"

"I only had three beers. And there's not even anybody on the road, so what's the problem?"

I suddenly grow angry, not wanting to listen to Tony try to peer pressure me into speeding for him. "The problem is," I testily snap, "I'm not following what an impulsive hothead says just because he wants to get home quicker!"

He glares at me with same wild angry eyes that he does every time he grows impatient with me. I know he's thinking of a hurtful insult to sting me with, so I decide to retort before him to keep him preoccupied.

Somehow, what slips out of my mouth is, "God, why can't you be more like Jay!" He gives me an incredulous look. "I know he's annoyed with me all the time, but at least he isn't rude about it! You find ways to patronize me every time we meet."

"Jay?" he asks, still sounding disbelieving. "What, you want me to act more like Jay? Let me break it down for you, Jay isn't exactly the saint you see him as--"

"Oh, that's nice," I cut in. "You're gonna bag on your best friend now?"

"You brought it up, pendejo. At least I can keep a girl for longer than two weeks. When was the last time you saw Jay Adams with a long-term girlfriend, huh?"

"Are you saying he treats his girlfriends like shit?"

"I didn't say that. I just meant that he can't hold down a girlfriend."

"That has nothing to do with whether or not Jay's a good person!" Even as the words come out of my mouth, they sound strange for me to say.

Before Tony can drag on the argument to the point of tears, we're interrupted by a tremendous 'BANG!' coming from the engine.

"What the hell is wrong with your car?"

"Shut up," I mutter, sitting up straight in my seat to try to get a better look at the hood.

The engine continue making chunky, rattling noises, until finally something inside the hood exploded and smoke seeped out. I quickly find a neighborhood to pull over to.

"What's wrong with it?" I ask.

Without answering, Tony opens the door and steps in front of the car. I decide to follow. When he sees me copying his actions, he gives me a dubious look.

"You don't know shit about cars, so why don't you let me take care of it?"

I roll my eyes, but stubbornly stay glued to my spot on the street. He pops the hood open and his curly-haired head disappears into the mechanics of the engine area. Shivering, I reach into the backseat and grab a handmade quilt my mom made while living in Wisconsin. I wrap it around my shoulders and stand off to the side, waiting for Tony's opinion. After awhile of waiting, I loose my patience.

I decide to ask the most annoying question a man will hear. At least, according to my dad, it was the most annoying question: "Do you even know what you're doing?"

He lifted his head again and glared at me. "Do you think that I would even be down here, knowing that your damn parents would sue me if I fucked up your car worse?"

"We wouldn't sue you," I defend, placing a hand on my hip. "Not your broke ass anyway. Your dad scares Aaron too much."

"I think you've got a cracked radiator," he says while examine a car part I wasn't familiar with. He reaches out and fiddles with a knob. "But I'm not sure, it could be--SHIT!" His hand suddenly retract from a sizzling car part, like a little kid accidentally touching a burning stove and pulling away. "Ahh, motherfucker!"

"What happened!" I ask, trying and failing to mask my concern.

"Nothing, just--arggh!" He continues clutching his hand in pain.

"Let me see." I step forward and carefully take his hand in mine to peer down at it. There was a searing burnt mark slashed across his palm, but it wasn't alarmingly big. I glance around for something to wrap around it. I see the red bandana over Tony's head and grab it from his tangly curls. "You have to apply pressure to it or else your hand will loose a lot of blood," I explain, wrapping the bandana around his palm snugly.

"Whatever," he mutters, and pulls away as soon as I let go. He slams shut the hood of the car.

"So," I say with a sudden smugness in my voice. "I thought you knew what you were doing. Now suddenly you don't know how to fix it?"

"Cracked radiators can't be fixed without tools, dip shit," he snaps. "We need a tow truck."

My mouth falls open and I stare around the neighborhood in mock wonder. "Well, how are we supposed to do that? It's the middle of the night, suburbia, no ones going to let two teenaged strangers into their house for a phone call!"

He takes a mocking tone of voice. "What, are you afraid that some shit like Texas Chainsaw Massacre will happen?"

"Right now would be the perfect time for you to shut up, Alva! I really can't deal with your patronizing--"

"Don't you even try to pull that mom shit on me! It may work on guys like Sid and Jay, but you can't boss me around--"

"What mom shit? What are you talking about? No one listens to me!"

Rolling his eyes, Tony grunts in frustration. Changing the subject, he abruptly demands to know, "Where are we?"

"Something like Iowa Street," I grumble.

Tony takes on an expression of new hope. "Oh, no shit? My house is three blocks down from here. We can walk."

With a frown, I reach in through the Le Baron's window and pull the car keys out of the ignition. Then we both grab possessions from the car just in case they were needed for the trip, or in case any robbers came by and wanted to take anything expensive. In Dogtown, even seemingly innocent suburbs weren't safe to leave an unlocked car in.

Tony leads the way down the block, his grocery bag of Lily's food in one arm.

"How did you not know your house was three blocks from here?" I ask him to break the silence.

"It's dark out," he defends.

"I had my headlights on."

"Obviously, that wasn't good enough."

"Nothing is good enough for you," I mumble bitterly.

Ten minutes later, we finally reached the Alva house, located in a shabbier part of the neighborhood. It wasn't very well kept: Brown paint was peeling off the edges of the house, the lawn was a puke-ish yellow-brown color making it look like it hadn't seen water in months, and the porch stairway that led up to the front door was the worst because it had a missing step and the wood looked like it was about to collapse in.

Without fear or hesitation, Tony sprinted up the older set of stairs and reached the raggedy carpet laid in front of the door. As I carefully trot up the steps, careful not to fall, he was already unlocking the door and stepping inside.

"You better hope that my dad paid his phone bill this month," I hear him say from inside.

"Are you telling me that there's a possibility that your phone may not work?" I shout, sounding accosted.

"That's right, angel face."

I follow him inside the house, not knowing what to expect. Tony's family was poor, but they still somehow managed to rent a full-size house, even if it was smaller than most. It wasn't a psychedelic purple theme like Jay's place, or a beach-blanket orange like the Peralta house, but it was a dark maroon color. The living room wasn't very welcoming: A small, pathetic television set, a stained coffee table, and an ugly orange couch with ripped cushions greeted the visitor.

"The phone is in the kitchen. Don't snoop in any of our shit."

"Like I'd want to," I say snidely, and head through the hallway that led to the kitchen. I search the linoleum lit room for a telephone, until I see a peculiar appliance hanging on the wall. I say peculiar because it was shaped like a hamburger. "Dear God, tell me that's not the phone."

"By the way," Tony yells from the living room, "the phone is a hamburger!"

I groan at my ironic luck, trudge toward the hamburger-shaped phone and pick up the receiver. I press the dials, which were colored yellow and red, which had to signify mustard and ketchup. There was also a green button at the bottom looking like a pickle.

After several rings, the answer machine picks up. What? Why weren't they answering? Where else could they be, but at home pacing in worry that both their children were out missing in Dogtown? I slam the hamburger phone down in frustration, and stomp into the living room, stumbling onto the ugly orange couch.

Tony was situated on the armchair to the right of me, watching an episode of The Twilight Zone. Just being stuck here of all places, Tony Alva's house, with no way of getting home, made me feel like I was in the Twilight Zone.


	9. Aftermath

* * *

**Chapter 9. Aftermath**

* * *

"... so then she goes, 'I told you, I was once queen of the nile,' and then she bites him in the neck and sucks the life out of the dude, like some kind of vampire."

My mom stares at the Hispanic, her patience dwindling by the second. She wanted to leave, take her daughter home already, but she couldn't possible be rude to the boy who had offered me shelter for three hours at his house. That's how Mom saw it.

To me, Tony wasn't even acting out of kindness. He couldn't just strand a girl he knew outside at an ungodly our of the night--he wasn't that heartless, apparently.

Mom nodded in feigned interest, as Tony finished his synopsis of the Twilight Zone episode. I awkwardly stand behind Tony at the doorway. I glance at Kathy, who was passed out on the couch, and wonder if I could sit on top of her without waking her. I see Aaron sitting in the car parked in front of the house. He too is staring back at the porch, wondering what's taking so long.

"Sounds worthwhile," says my mom finally. She smiles at him. "Too bad I missed that one. There'll probably be another rerun of it, though. Eden?" She pokes her head around Tony's shoulder to give me a strained look.

I nod and move past Tony. We are both hesitant to walk down the porchway, with the same logic that the wood was unstable and could fall down any second. As we start forward, though, Tony's imploring voice cuts in.

"Hey, Mrs. Peralta? Could you not, like, tell my dad that your daughter was here? I'm kinda supposed to be grounded, and if he found out that a girl stayed over he'll take it the wrong way..."

Mom glances at me with accusatory eyes. What was that about? What did she think this was? A sleep-over make-out session I had with the Alva boy? Absolutely not.

"Of course, Tony, I'll keep your secret."

With a grateful nod, Tony's eyes landed on me with a slightly glaring glint, as though threatening me that the same goes for me: I wasn't to tell Mr. Alva I was over his house. Just for the look, I had the impulsive urge to call up Mr. Alva the next morning just to tell him what happened.

Aaron and Mom drive me home with the windows rolled down. The nightly breeze wasn't nearly as strong enough because dawn was coming in a few hours. The first five minutes is quiet, which I am both grateful and nervous about. Eventually, the silence fizzled away and a new ferocity hit my mom. For the first time, she was going to yell at me in front of her second husband.

"Tony Alva, Eden?" met my ears. "I mean, Tony Alva? What do yo see in that boy?"

My body surges with shock and hurt. What is she talking about? How can she even think that? Here I was, under the impression that she was going to yell at me for the thousand other things that went wrong this night--but no, she concentrates on the fact that she had to pick me up, 3 A.M., from Tony's place.

"I wasn't--" I start, my voice breaking. I wasn't very certain of how I was going to explain this. The shock of her thinking I was with Tony was still setting in on me. "Mom, how can you think that?!" I was suddenly very angry. What was she thinking, suggesting that?

"Well, what am I supposed to think, Eden?" she asks, stung by my words. "Here me and Aaron were, driving the entire town in search for you and Stacy! We finally find the house where Stacy's at--only to find that you aren't there. We drive home, expecting you to be there, then finally an hour later we get a phone call--"

"I already called the house three other times before you finally picked up!"

"...saying, 'Mom, come pick me up, I'm at Tony Alva's house.' What am I supposed to say to that, huh?"

"Well, if you would've listened to my entire story on the phone, maybe you'd think, 'Oh, poor Eden; she sure had a rough night'! I told you, Mom, the Le Baron stopped working!"

I sent a scathing glare at Aaron, who was staying neatrally silent; it was his fault for giving me the car that ended up breaking down in the middle of the ride.

"What was I supposed to do for the rest of the night, wait for help to come? I had to go with Tony--his house was three blocks away. And exactly what do you think happened between us?" I took on a challenging note in my voice.

"Why don't you tell me, Eden? Tell me what you found with him to do for nearly three hours!"

I hate the tone of suggestion that is in her voice. It felt like I no longer knew the woman sitting in the passenger's seat ahead of me. All of the years of close affection were gone, replaced with a new rage for one another. I lean my forehead against the window, trying to control the heavy breathes I was coming out with.

More and more by the day, my mom was become disabled, stunted by my rate of maturity. Meanwhile I'm having to deal with the newfound anxieties and teenage vulnerability that has found its way into my mindset.

A year ago, had she picked me up from a boy's house, the most she would have done was relentlessly tease me over whether I had kissed the boy or not. Now she was coming to the accusation that I was becoming promiscuous, which shocked me more than it should have, because it with Tony Alva of all people. But she didn't exactly know about my loathing for him.

"Well?" she snaps when I don't give her an outright answer. "What happened with him?"

Instead of assuring her the truth, I decide to turn on her, to burn he just as she had burned me:

"None of your business."

The short, simple reply was effective: she immediately whips her head back and stares at me with hurt. Then as her head turns back forward, I see tears welling up in her eyes.

Of course, the truth to that question wasn't much. Tony and I had treated each other exactly the same this night as any other night. The only difference was that we had to endure it for three hours, when we usually only took doses of each other an hour at a time. I reflect back to the night, which was both uneventful yet extremely weird.

* * *

_"Is she coming soon?"_

_I look at Tony, who is lazily sprawled out on the armchair._

_"No one picked up."_

_He turns his head in interest, raising his eyebrows in question. I shrug, indicating that I have no idea where they could be. Maybe they were out searching for me?_

_Tony sighs, leaning his head back on the chair. "And of all the nights your parents picked to have wild, passionate sex, it had to be this night--"_

_"Ugh, Tony!" I yell, covering my face in an attempt to cover the burning image of Aaron and my mom in bed together. But after a pause, I laugh anyway, just because the thought of them having sex instead of worrying about me was amusing in itself._

_Encouraged by amusement, Tony takes that as a sign that I was egging him on. He starts making groans and sighs in an imitation of my mother have an orgasm. I take a couch pillow and throw it as hard as I can at his head, but it pathetically misses by inches, showing just how well my coordination was._

_He tuts at my bad aim, picks the pillow and swings the pillow with such force that I think it would knock me off the couch--so I flinch out of the way. But when I look up, the pillow was still in his hand and he was laughing. He made me flinch on purpose._

_I roll my eyes and return to my position on the couch. I hated just sitting here in his living room. For the next hour I refuse to laugh at his attempts to make fun of the Twilight Zone by dubbing over the voice._

_After awhile he gives up and we begin arguing over stupid trivial matters (not because we wanted to, but because it was the only way to kill the boredom. The arguments ranged from whether Leia should end up with Luke or Han ("She and Luke kissed twice!" was my sole argument), to whether marijuana reduces a male's sperm count ("You can't ignore scientific fact, Alva" -- "I can and will")._

* * *

The night was pretty amusing, even fun at some points, because Tony could have a sense of humor as well.

We eventually pull up in the driveway. Because the lights are on, I'm guessing Stacy is inside, still buzzing over the excitement the party had to offer that night.

My thoughts drift to what Lily was doing, and whether things worked out for her tonight between her and Stacy. I would have to wait till tomorrow before calling her, and even then I was guaranteed to be grounded by my mom.


	10. Says Peggy

I finish tying the ponytail around my hair and turn on the sink faucet to splash a handful of cool water in my face.

Someone bangs at the bathroom door, startling me. "C'mon, Red, we haven't got all day!" yells Rhonda, "lets go!"

"Just a second!" I say hurriedly. I fumble for my apron, tie it around my waist and fling open the bathroom door to face Rhonda's irritated face.

"It's about damn time," she snaps. "You have four tables waitin' on you, get to work."

I move passed her, grab the nearest pad of paper I can find and head to table three.

"I want two eggs, over easy," rambles the customer, "with little bits of bacon sprinkled on top--"

"Wait, sir," I interrupt the customer, who gave me an impatient glance. "I'm sorry, but the breakfast menu is closed. It's lunch time." I point my pen to the clock on Venice Noodle Company's wall, which read 1:23.

"Are you telling me I can't order some eggs and pancakes?" the man asks, clearly annoyed. Behind me, I hear chatter at the Z-boys table slow down. They were watching the interaction between me and the customer.

"I'm sorry, sir, but no, you cannot. At this time, the menu will only be serving lunch and dinner meals."

"What kind of shit is that," he mumbles under his breath. "Alright, I'll have the special."

"French onion soup? Alright, sir, I'll be right out with your order."

After scribbling down his order, I tuck the notepad in my belt and head to the back room, passing the Z-boy booth on my way. Sid does a wolf-whistle as I pass by as a joke, but the old couple in the booth behind him take it offensively.

"Young man, that's no way to treat a lady!"

I grin and hand the slip of paper in the back for one of the chefs to take. Ronna passes by with a cigarette in her mouth. "Booth four, honey, they asked specifically for you." I nod and head back to booth four.

"Welcome to Venice Noodle Company, how may I serve you today?" I ask in the fake cheery voice, causing Stacy to chuckle.

I give dubious looks all around the table. From left to right, they were all seated in this order: Sid, Lily, Stacy, Peggy, Tony and then Jay at the other end. I had a bad feeling that they were going to get me in trouble, so perhaps I could get away with playing dumb and pretending not to know them.

"Yes," says Jay in a lofty voice, I can tell he was doing an impression of the customer at table three. I try hiding my smile. "I would like two eggs with little bits of bacon sprinkled on top."

I play along. "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't serve slummers such as you. You're going to have to leave."

"Ouch. Okay, what if I provide... sexual deeds to the staff in exchange for the food?" He lifts his eyebrows up suggestively.

"I don't think they serve male gigalows either, Jay-man," smirks Sid. He turns to me. "Hey, I'll give you fifty percent tip if you flash us your assets?"

"Tempting, but I'll have to pass," I roll my eyes. "Come on, guys, start ordering or I'll look incompetent."

"I think I speak for everyone here when I say six burgers, six cokes, with a side of french fries for all," says Sid.

"Speak for yourself," speaks up Lily. "I want a chicken soup and a lemonade, thanks."

Sid stares at Lily. "What are you, a vegetarian?"

"If she was a vegetarian why would she be ordering chicken soup?" I say while scribbling down the orders. "What do you guys want on your burgers?"

"The usual," says Sid. Stacy, Peggy and Jay nod in agreement. I look up at Tony for his agreement. "Pickles, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and a side of cucumber." Jay snorts. I know Tony was only saying those things to make my job harder.

"No problem," I say darkly and walk away.

Five minutes later, I came out with their cokes and lemonade, and then I gave Lily and the man at table three their soups. After I jotted down orders for two other tables, I gave the five burger meals to their booth.

"So hows my job paying you?" asks Stacy jokingly, as I set down his plate in front of him.

"Your job? It's not my fault that you weren't good enough for Venice Noodle company."

Lily laughs. "Excuse me, Stace, but this was supposed to be my job. Eden stole it from me."

"Yeah right," says Stacy. "The only reason she got it was because I didn't know up for the training session thing."

"Ooh, so you were one of the idiots who forgot to show up. I wonder who the other one was."

"I didn't forget. I just didn't go because I didn't want to hurt Eden's feelings."

"Aww," coos Jay. I set down the last plate, and with a satisfied nod I started away. However, Tony's voice cut in.

"Hey!" I look at his expectantly. "I asked for mayonnaise." He says, lifting up the bun to indicate there was no mayonnaise. Jay sniggers and Peggy shakes her head. I grab Tony's plate forcibly out of his hands and head to the back.

"Don't be such an ass, T.A.," says Peggy.

"That was a bad idea," agrees Lily. "She'll spit on your burger."

As I disappear into the back with Tony's plate, I hear him calling me back, after Lily pointed out that I could spit on his burger. But since there were workers all around the kitchen area, I wouldn't be able to carry out Lily's idea, so I found a jar of mayonnaise and spread it on. When I emerged again and handed the plate to T.A., he stares at it warily and sets it down on the table without touching it. I smirk, having my revenge on his was fun, even though I didn't technically do anything, I still spoiled his trust in his meal.

"Your break is up, Eden," Ronna tells me after ten minutes. I decide to join the booth if they're all still there. When I get there, most are finishing the meals and working on the giant trey of fries in the middle. I slip off the apron and slide into the booth next to Sid, squashing together Stacy and Peggy, who were stuck in the middle.

Sid and Jay were in the middle of a sword fight using their forks and knives, which I endured for another five minutes until I snapped and told them to stop it. They obliged when I threatened to ignore them for the next two weeks. Surprisingly it worked.

"Sid, dude, shouldn't you be at the shop working as Skip's little monkey?" joked Tony. "How much does he pay you again?"

"Sid works for free," says Sid, speaking in third person. "Sid thinks it's unfair that the financial situation is so tight at the shop, and Sid thinks Skip needs all the help he can get."

"Eden thinks Sid is sweet," I say.

"So sweet that Eden will go down on Sid?" asks Sid with a wide grin.

"I'm not that generous, Angaro, calm down," I reply bluntly.

"Wait, then who's foot is that?" He peeks down underneath the table, I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

After Sid paid for the meal, Stacy, Tony, and Jay all found a bus to ride along the back on their skateboards. Meanwhile, Sid went to Skip's shop to work, and the three girls were left to chit chat in the diner as they finished their booths.

"When are you going out with my brother already?" I ask Lily when the topic of boys crop up.

Lily flushes and sinks into the booth's seat. "He's going out with Kathy Alva, didn't I tell you?"

"Oh, sorry."

"There are plenty of other fish in the sea," says Peggy wisely. "Hell, you're surrounded by an entire group of hormonal teenage boys, you can have your pick from them."

I scrunch my nose. "But Lily can do so much better than that. Pretend for a second that she did go out with a Z-boy, which one would it be?"

Both Peggy and I turn our heads to Lily for an answer. "I dunno. Jay's kinda cute," She surprises me. When did she think Jay was cute? "But I don't think he likes me very well. I'm a Val, obviously."

"So is Sid, and they're best friends," says Peggy. "But I think you're right, Jay's got his heart set on someone else." Her squinted black eyes land on me.

I choke on the lemonade I was sipping, then after recovery, I raise my eyebrows at Peggy.

"Dude, it's kind of obvious he loves you," says Peggy.

"Yeah, well, he's way younger than me."

"What are you talking about?" asks Lily. "He's at least a year older than you."

"Psychically, yes. But mentally?" I shake my head.

"No offense, Eden, but if you're going on maturity level alone, you won't see a boy in a looong time," says Peggy. "You're, like, at least five years older than your actual age."

"That's not true," I try to defend myself. "Remember, just the weekend I got in trouble by my mom for those missing three hours. I still make stupid decisions, occasionally." I kept the fact out that it really wasn't a stupid decision on my part, it was just something that happened that I couldn't control. I had to make it seem like I was normal.

"Where were you, anyway?" asks Lily suspiciously. "I mean, you were gone from midnight till three, it's kind of weird how you just went missing for those three hours."

I sigh, bracing myself to tell them what happened. I had been putting it off when it came to that night, but now they had me cornered.

"Stacy's car broke down while I was dropping off T.A., so I had to stay at his house until my parents picked me up."

Peggy burst out laughing, while Lily gapes at me in awe. "You were at Tony's house for three hours?" asks Lily. "What did you guys do there?"

I cringe, remembering the same tone of voice my mom took when asking me the same question.

"Nothing, we just sat around waiting."

After calming down, Peggy asks, "But you guys had to talk, right? I mean, you didn't just sit there silent the entire time."

"Yeah, we talked. But it was about the usual stuff. It's not like we got along"

"So there wasn't like, any sexual tension?" asks Peggy with a grin flitting her lips.

"Shut up, Peggy!" I yell over the new bursts of laughter that was coming from her. "It wasn't like that at all. The only thing that came close to sexual tension was when he went into the other room to brush his teeth."

"How does that constitute as sexual tension?" asks Lily, confused.

"It doesn't, Lily, that's exactly why I said it. Tony Alva and I don't mix, period. He's a cocky asshole."

"You know," says Peggy, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and T.A. are made up with nothing but sexual tension. I mean, all those arguments? Those gotta belly something deeper, like certain unwanted feelings of attraction."

I glare at Peggy, liking her less and less by the second. "There is nothing going on, so you can just forget it."

"Hey, who wants to go down to Paul Revere middle school?" asks Lily, wanting to break the tension. "I heard the guys are going there to skate later on so we could hang out, watch them."

Normally I would have said no, but I was still reeling in anger at Peggy that, without thinking about what Lily was asking, I say, "Yeah, whatever."


	11. Algebra is the Root of All Evil

* * *

**Chapter 11. Algebra is the Root of All Evil**

* * *

We reach the sidewalk outside the fence of Paul Revere middle school. Peggy starts climbing the fence, while Lily and I stare at each other dubiously. Behind the gate, all the Z-boys are there and begging for the skateboard that Skip was holding.

"Who's got bad karma?" slurred Skip, keeping the board just out of reach.

"I've got the worst karma, Skip!"

"Right here, Skip!"

"What the hell are they talking about?" I grin. Along the fence, I see an opening. There, I peel the fence upward enough for me to squeeze in through. I hold it up for Lily to follow.

After she climbs through, we walk down the sidewalk and sit down on a bench next to a picnic table. Tony finally snatched the board away from Skip's grasp and rambled something in Spanish.

After a fleeting backward glance at the picnic table I was sitting at, Tony lays the skateboard down and takes off on the pavement. All the boys surrounding Skip stare in awe at the moves Tony pulls off. He seems to have more agility than I've ever seen him with before.

"What's the big deal?" asks Lily. "It's just a regular skateboard."

"No it's not, dude," says Stacy. "Those are urethane wheels!" (Someone in the background says, "You're a what?"). Stacy continues his happy rant. "They grip a hell of a lot better than clay wheels."

"So," I cut in, "this is like a step up from the crappy hand-made skateboards you guys make all the time?"

"Yeah!" says Stacy with a dorky tone of voice. "This'll change skateboarding forever."

"Gnarly, bro," I say sarcastically, watching as Tony slides to a grinding halt and passes the board to Red Dog.

"Yeah, Red Dog, hit it!"

"Ride it like a wave, man!"

"Hey, Stace," says a sickly sweet behind us. Out of the corner my eye, I see Lily tense up. Kathy wraps her arms around Stacy and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Kath," he says, blushing.

Lily clears her throat and scoots further down the bench to distance herself from Stacy and Kathy. I'm caught between laughing and feeling bad for my friend. I decide to try to cheer her up by making a fool of myself through attempting to skateboard. I had only skateboarded once, and that was long ago, so I was a little more than rusty and likely doomed to fail horribly.

I grab a tiny, beat up wooden skateboard discarded on the floor, set it down and begin skating down the road.

Noticing, Lily giggles and says, "What are you doing?" I lose my balance and wiggle in the air in the moment before regaining my composure once more. "It looks like you're in mid-seisure," laughs Lily.

"That's the point, I'm trying to be a damsel-in-distress." I turn back around and start skating faster. To my surprise, I'm able to pick it up quickly, as quickly as I first learned to skateboard. I wasn't remarkably good, but I was around Sid's range (and Sid was the worst on the team, poor kid).

Jay, seeing me, grins and starts circling me on his own skateboard to block me from going anywhere.

"Jay, what are you doing?" I ask, annoyed.

"Being an ass. Is it working?"

"You pull that off even without trying, Adams." I say playfully, placing a foot on the asphalt so I'm not standing awkwardly on the board anymore. "Seriously, cut it out, you're making me dizzy."

Jay slows down and says, "You can't even skate. What are you doing?"

Under my breath, I look behind me and quietly say, "I was just trying to make Lily laugh. She's not too happy right now."

Jay saw behind me what I was talking about, with Kathy and Stacy excessively flirting with one another. Smirking, Jay says, "It'll last a month, tops."

I stare at him in surprise. "What, the relationship?"

He nods, then starts doing nose wheelies on his skateboard. In the middle of a turn, I see that on the back of Jay's shirt collar, a paper tag is haphazardly sticking out. I had a horrible pet peeve for shirt-tags, having already cut out all the little paper tags in my entire collection of shirts.

"Jay, you've got--"

"What?" He says, looking up.

I sigh and step forward to fix it for him, since it's likely that he'd just laugh in my face if I pointed it out. I reach near the back of his neck and feel for where the tag is. Jay straightens up abruptly, and I feel a set of goosebumps erupting on the back of his neck where I was touching. I feel my cheeks burning crimson. But as soon as I find the tag and tuck it in, a force crashes in between us, effectively pushing my arm off and pulling me farther away from Jay.

Startled, I look around to see who or what had collided in between us; I see the back of Tony's figure as he propels down the asphalt on a board. Jay innocently grins and shrugs in response, but I'm too angry to respond. Jay gets on his board again and takes off after Tony, screaming insults at him in a joking manner. "Fucking faggot, get back here!"

"Hey, Ed?" asks Lily. "Can we get out of here? I'm getting kind of sick of this."

"I was just about to say the same thing."

* * *

I tap my pencil against the blank notebook page. After Lily and I said our goodbyes, we went our separate ways. She convinced one of the boys (Sid) to go with her to the local theater so she can watch some horror flick. Now I was back at home, holed up in my room because I didn't feel like doing my homework in the same room as my mom or Aaron; I was still mad at them

'_1. Write your own Algebraic equation to solve.' was the first problem on the worksheet_.

I take the pencil and begin scribbling down the quickest answer I could think of:

_If A likes B, but B is dating C at the time, and B's friend D is confusing B's sister E, then what is the value of DxE? And the hell is F's problem with E anyway? F is an ass._

I reread the run-on sentence over, cringing at how stupid it looks. If I were to actually submit this, I would probably fail the rest of the semester. It read like a synopsis to an episode of Days of Our Lives. The sad thing is, each letter represented somebody in my life. I was the pathetic E, stuck in the middle of it all.

* * *

_**AN:**_ I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Especially with Eden skateboarding and the "algebra equation"--if you can call it that. Below is the key to understand the equation:

A: Lily

B: Stacy

C: Kathy

D: Jay

E: Eden

F: Tony


	12. Stacy's Blow

_**AN: **_Mr. Ryan is actually based off my real Health/PE teacher, who I had for my freshmen year. I like him, but of course Eden isn't going to like because because he doesn't follow standards.

One last thing, the thing that Lily mentions about gym (the dodgeball game) happened to me in real life. (Tear). It's stored in my database as my most embarrassing gym moment.

* * *

**Chapter 12. Stacy's Blow**

* * *

I sit uncomfortably at my desk, waiting for the school bell to ring. Usually I enjoyed most of my classes, but Health was the one exception. It was the easiest class I've ever had, and because it's easy I'm bored to tears all the time.

"So," says, Mr. Ryan, chomping loudly on his gum. He stares out over the rest of the fifteen-year-olds inhibiting the classroom, while swinging the whistle hanging around his neck, out of habit. Gym teachers are always also your Health teachers. He taps his finger against the chalkboard, where barely legible writing was written in yellow chalk.

"Copy this schedule down, because in two weeks this is how your Wednesday is gonna go."

I don't bother raising my hand, when asking, "What's on Wednesday that we have to change the schedule for?"

The reason why so many students liked Mr. Ryan, and I didn't, was that he wasn't at all anal like other teachers. We didn't have to raise our hands, we didn't have to turn in homework on time, and we didn't have to spit out our gum.

"Wednesday, the juniors are taking their S.A.T.s," says Mr. Ryan. "So, as you can imagine, we're changing around the schedule to fit their needs and the rest of the school's needs."

I raise my eyebrow at how oddly his sentenced was phrased. Do not roll your eyes at the teacher, Eden, do not.

After the class copies down the schedule on the board, Mr. Ryan rants on in an unprepared lesson about human anatomy. I don't even bother taking notes, instead just committing everything to memory because that was how simple the curriculum was.

Finally, the bell rings, ending the last class of the day. I remember the SAT guide that I had picked up at the office at the beginning of the year. I knew it would eventually come in handy, and now I could give it to Stacy for him to study, since test-taking wasn't his strongest suite. While aimlessly strolling the hallway, I diligently search my book bag for the blue pamphlet.

"Gym should be illegal," states a voice next to me. I look up to see Lily, sweaty and exhausted, joining my pace down the hallway.

"You just came from P.E.?"

"Yes," she says grimly. "And we played dodgeball today. I was the last person to survive on my team, so naturally, everyone ganged up and pelted the balls at me."

"Vicious," I say, trying to conceal my smile. "Do you want a ride home today?"

"No thanks," she shakes her head. "My parents are picking me up again."

After we depart, I meet Stacy in the parking lot. He waves goodbye to his friends, who would all rather ride their skateboards around town than go home to do homework. Stacy switches on the radio as we back out of the high school's parking lot. A news broadcast comes on.

"With no end to the drought in sight, authorities have announced that emergency measures will be taken for water rationing systems."

"Whoa," says Stacy, genuinely surprised. "There's a drought in California? That sucks."

"Yeah, it looks like your dad will have to find a new pastime, other than watering his lawn."

Stacy smiles, but it quickly disappears into a thin line, because he's realized something. "But this isn't good for us. The ocean will just keep getting flatter, until we won't even be able to surf everyday anymore."

"I only surf on the weekends, so that's only bad for you."

"Yeah, but what if on the weekends it's flat then too."

I shrug, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "I'll find something else to do. And you'll have plenty of time to study for the S.A.T.s."

He groans, flipping his head against the car seat.

* * *

Stacy was staring up at the cloudless, blue sky in admiration. Meanwhile I was spitting out a piece of stringy seaweed that had caught in my mouth.

"Come on, Stacy, are we gonna surf or are we gonna sit on our boards?" I say after the gross salty-green taste leaves my mouth. "Let's paddle already."

He finally tears his eyes away from the skyline and flashes me his pearly white smile. I lean in close to my surfboard and then stroke through the waves. I hear Stacy paddling behind me.

"It's a little flat today," remarks Stacy. "But that's okay, I think it'll get better once the wind picks up. The weather man says it's supposed to be a perfect day for surfing."

"Just the other day you were talking about that drought," I remind him. "Maybe it's that?"

"Oi!" a voice calls in the distance. I spin my head and see the curly-haired head of Tony, along with some older locals floating on their surfboards. "You better not get in my way again, Peralta! This isn't no drowning contest."

"God," I mutter to Stacy. "He just loves pissing me off, doesn't he?"

"It's in his nature," says Stacy, trying to hide his smile.

"He ripped my head off the other day, just after Lily's party. You would've loved it."

"Hey, finally here comes a wave."

I abruptly turn my board so it's facing the shore. As the wave behind us mounts, Stacy swims aside to give me some room. I fluidly go through the motions of the wave: paddling forward, popping up at the right moment, and dismounting once the wave is over. It felt good to be out on the ocean again, where all I had to do is concentrate on was the way my board flew with the wave.

Stacy does the same when another wave comes. He surfs much better when he's off pressure. Whenever Skip and his boys from the shop are around, Stacy always lets his nerves eat him alive, and half the time he bails on the wave he's pursuing. Because of it, Skip or any of the others didn't think Stacy was a good surfer.

After we're done with our share of the waves, we meet at the shore.

"I guess we'll let Alva hog the rest of the waves for the day," I smirk.

"Jeez, Eden, you've been extra vicious toward him lately," says Stacy, moving his long wet hair out of his face. "Something he did lately?"

I shake my head. "I'm just sick of seeing him."

We trudge through the sand until we reach Stacy's car. He takes care of my surfboard for me.

"So did you hear? Del Mar is hosting this contest for skateboarders. People from all over the country are coming here to compete. Skip wants to put together a skate team for it."

"Okay. Why, are you asking me to join or something?" I say jokingly.

He shakes his head with a nervous glint in his eyes.

"Stace, relax, you'll get on the team. Put it this way; if Sid, the worst skater around, gets on, then you have a guaranteed spot."

He smiles to try to convince me he was okay. "Thanks Eden."

With that, he finishes putting the last strap to the surfboard on top of the car. However, before we can get in the car, the sound of wheels against asphalt is heard behind us. Suddenly Jay pops up from behind and pushes me playfully in the shoulder blades.

"Jay, what's up?" asks Stacy.

He shrugs, leaning his hand against the hood of the car. "Uh, it's not looking so good, man."

"Not true, dude," says Stacy, shrugging while staring out at the ocean. "There's an occasional set. It's really not that bad."

By the expression on Jay's face, I could tell that he wasn't talking about the waves. He had worse news.

"We were up at the Zephyr shop yesterday," continues Jay, "with Skip and everybody..." My stomach sinks, as I realize that the one thing I assured to Stacy wouldn't happen, did. "And so... Tony got on the team, right? And Sid and Peggy and Biniak... Red Dog and Shogo."

"What about you?"

"Yeah, I got on... Sorry, bro."

I stare at Jay. He didn't seem so broken up about it. Then I wait for a reaction from Stacy, who's now glaring out at the ocean. I motion to Jay that now would be a good time for him to leave. As he takes off down Bicknell Hill on his skateboard, I approach Stacy, who now has his arms crossed and looks very upset.

"Stace," I start gently, after a minute of silence. "It's just a team. What should it matter, when in three years from now you'll be famous and surfing the world professionally? They'll totally regret it."

Stacy gives me a sharp glare, startling me. "It's not just a team, Eden! It's the one thing I'm good at. Skating and surfing are my life, I've been doing this since I was a kid. And for Skip to just say, 'no, sorry, you don't got the pirate spirit' just shatters my entire dream. You have no idea how it feels."

I've never seen him this upset and angry.

"I'm sorry, Stace. You're right, I don't know how it feels. But... do you even hear yourself?"

He finally stops glaring at the sea to stare at me, confused.

"Why should someone like Skip stop you just because he says you can't? I mean, I get why everyone respects and admires Skip, but if you're just going to let him, or anybody else for that matter, stop you from pursuing your dream, then maybe you don't deserve it. I thought you knew better than that, Stace."

I bite my tongue to stop myself from further speaking, unsure of whether I had made the situation better or worse. Like all the other guys, Stacy really looked up to Skip. It was always a bad idea to undermine him like I just had.

To my relief, Stacy nods and suddenly looks hopeful again. "You're right, Ed. I don't need Skip to skateboard. I can make it on my own."

"Good for you," I smile, gently shoving his shoulder. "You don't need Skip or Del Mar."

Stacy releases a breathy laugh, sending me a meaningful look. "Who says I'm not going to Del Mar? You don't need to be on a team to enter."

The smile wipes off my face. Oh no.


	13. Skip Called Me Bro

_**NEW AN:**_ Argh! Ok, I'm having serious issues with this chapter, this is the second time I've had to delete it to repost it. I'm sorry it's not a real update, there's just something odd with the formatting that I keep trying to fix.

Anyway, I'm taking a brief break from the story because during the month of July, I'll be extremely busy. I hope to update once during July if I'm lucky. And then by August, my schedule will be back to normal and I'll be able to update more frequently!

* * *

**Chapter 13. Skip Called Me Bro**

* * *

The car's horn sounds off in the driveway. I hear Aaron bellow my name from below. "COME ON, Stacy's waiting for you!"

After pulling on a pair of vans shoes, I sling my red backpack, which contains a water bottle and some books, over my shoulder. Sprinting downstairs, I meet Aaron, in mid-yawn, as he sits in the living room's armchair while watching television.

Another loud honk from outside startles me.

"It's about time," snaps Stacy impatiently when I emerge from the house. As expected, Stacy is nervously pacing the driveway, with the same sour mood he has in the morning every day.

I wordlessly toss the backpack into the backseat, where Stacy's skateboard was lying. Then while Stacy and I got into the car, he asked me whether Lily is coming too.

Shaking my head, I say, "Her parents won't let her.

At 1 o'clock, we arrive at Del Mar. The place is packed with skateboarders from around the country. Stacy had trouble driving through the parking lot, because there were so many people there practicing their moves for the competition.

I bite my lip to hide the smile that grew: I couldn't help but notice that the competitors didn't at all skate like Stacy or his friends did. They all had 60's paradigms of skateboard styles. When it came down to it, Stacy and the Zephyr team would be the only guys here who'd have the surf style.

Right before I step out of the parked car, Stacy lightly grabs my shoulder. "Hey, if you see any of the Zephyr team, don't let them know we're here. I want my run to be a surprise for them."

I nod and we get out. Stacy and I join one of the endlessly long lines at the entrance. When we finally reach the front table, Stacy tells the officials his name and other information required. They assign him a number and hand him a slip of paper with string attached to it, for him to wrap around his neck.

At the bleachers, Stacy points across the flat, wooden platform at Skip's team. I strained my eyes and see Sid, who was looking the most nervous because he wasn't the best on the team. The other boys didn't look nervous at all. They were all energetic and pugnacious. Most of them were currently leering at the current competitor on the platform, Ty Page.

Stacy and I watch Ty Page's round—he has the kook style.

"Up next," the speaker announces, "is Jay Adams, riding for Zephyr Skateboards." The background soundtrack switches from the lighthearted 'Sidewalk Surfing' song to Black Sabbath's 'Iron Man'. This was without a doubt Jay's choice in music. Many of the crowd's spectators look around, finding the music choice strangely inappropriate.

"And here we go for Jay Adam's run."

Jay launches off onto the platform with his skateboard, and doesn't hesitate to show the crowd his innovative moves. Everybody simultaneously gapes at Jay. The Zephyr team encouragingly cheers for him. After doing some nose wheelies and berts, Jay must have spotted my redhead in the bleachers, because he suddenly smiles and does one of my favorite skateboarding moves, a Bertleman cutback. Impressed, the crowd cheers and collectively claps to Jay's skateboarding. At one point, he even jumps off the platform with his skateboard, making the girl's at the end of it flip out.

However, across the platform, the judges aren't as enthusiastic. They eye Jay with uncertainty as they whisper to themselves. The speaker, similarly, didn't know how to commentate for Jay's skateboarding:

"Um, here with Jay Adams…. Doing these low… low driving turns…. He's now hopping up in the air three or four inches. I don't even know what to call that… Never seen it."

I give Stacy a worried look, before standing up and climbing down from the bleachers to make my way toward the judges table. I had to hear what they were saying about Jay. On my way, I pass the Zephyr team.

"Eden!" shouts Sid, making half the team turn their heads. "You're here! Did'ya come to watch us?"

I smirk, "Sure, Sid, I drove the four-hour drive here just to watch you skate."

Sid grins goofily, unaware of the sarcastic tone I had. I find the judge's table just in time to hear their assessment of Jay.

"He didn't do a single wheelie. He didn't do a single compulsory trick," mutters one.

"Well, you gotta give him a score."

They hold up the score cards for the speaker to read aloud. "Looks like two 7's and an 8 for Jay Adams, riding for Zephyr Skateboards—"

There are groans coming from the Zephyr team, and one of the boy's yell, "BOO, you don't know how to judge!"

"Next up, Tony Alva, riding for Zephyr Skateboards."

"Go T.A.!"

On my way back to the bleachers, Sid stops me to beg that I sit with them on the bench. With a nonchalant shrug, I squeeze in between where Jay and Sid are sitting.

"Nice run, Jay," I tell him when he stares at me with an unreadable expression.

Unlike what happened to Jay, the speaker had a mouthful to say about Tony, who skated all over the platform, whipping out every fancy move he knew.

"Tony Alva, starting with some quick S-turns up onto the bank. Front side, power slide, and a very nice walking spinner. Another low-driving turn, touching his hands to the ground…. Here he comes toward the judges! Ends with an impressive low-driving 360. Great run for Tony Alva. Two 10's and a 9, the highest score of the day!"

Grinning, Tony energetically leaps off the floor and runs toward his team, receiving high fives and congratulatory shoves. He abruptly looks at me, as though expecting some sort of reaction. I only clear my throat and look back at the platform.

After sifting through all the skateboarders alphabetically, the speaker finally gets to the "P" surnames.

"Up next from Mar Vista, California, an independent skater, Stacy Peralta."

While many of the members, mainly Skip, are staring in shock, I stand up and loyally cheer Stacy's name. I'm joined by another voice, turns out to be Kathy Alva, his girlfriend. Stacy stares intently at the platform, then launches off his performance with a look of determination that reminded me a lot of Tony.

"Up, up, using the whole ramp, hands on the ground… And there's another one of those low maneuvers out of the pages of Surfer Magazine. Looks like he's winding up for some 360s: One, two, three, four, five! Five 360s, amazing, folks. We haven't seen that many all day! Back across the flat and there's his finish."

Kathy reaches him first, giving him a hug. I follow her, and grab onto his blue Hang 10 shirt and say, "I'll protest the judges if you don't get a trophy." Grinning like crazy, Stacy does his famous Peralta blush, making me laugh. His friends congratulate him the same way they did Jay and Tony.

"Two 10's and a 9, folks, which brings him into a first-place tie with Tony Alva."

The grin on my face immediately falls off. But that's not the worst of news. A man with a mustache and a clipboard walks up to Stacy and tells him that he's disqualified.

"What?" says Stacy, outraged.

"Disqualified, you're disqualified."

"Why?" By now the entire Zephyr team was surrounding the man and Stacy, as were the families of other competitors.

"You touched the course," explains the official. "That calls for disqualification—"

"What are you talking about?" I blurt out. "Everyone touched the course!"

"Read the rules, you're off the comp—"

To my surprise, Tony butts in and defends Stacy's place. "Hey, man! Look, look. The dude tied me!" He gave the same crazy glare that he'd given me whenever we were butting heads.

The official doesn't respond well to it, because he leans in and gives Tony a scrutinizing glare, and quietly says, "Can your dirty ass even read?"

Within milliseconds, Tony loses his temper, clenches his fist, winds back and punches the official in the jaw. The man falls to the ground, and blood spurts from his mouth. I stare down, making a face at the gruesome sight.

"Yeah, MAD DOG!"

"Go T.A.!

"My dirty ass, right?" yells Tony, as Stacy pulls him back to calm down. Tony seems ready to lunge back into the fight, but is prevented doing so when I grab the back of his blue shirt, and yank him off to the side so he can't cause anymore damage. "What?" he snaps.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I murmur angrily. "You don't punch a official and get away with it! They're gonna have your head…"

He gives me a disgruntled look before turning his head back to the middle of the fray, where Skip has stepped up to the official, looking riled.

"That kid," the official points at Tony, "is off the fairgrounds!"

Tony is too disbelieving and anguished to say anything. Skip speaks for him.

"Hey, cut these kids some slack, man!"

"Slack?" snaps the judge. "What do you think you are, coming to our contest and pulling this SHIT!"

"Pulling what shit, man? My boys are kicking are kicking your girls' asses! And what kind of shit is this, man? Every judge on the panel is on your payroll!"

Skip starts unbuckling his belt and whips it onto the floor. I try not to snort at how stupid the situation looked. "Step up to the plate, man! You want it? C'mon, will it be all of you?"

Skip threateningly wields his belt to the onlookers, who flinch back. Then he abruptly softens and drops the belt.

"Ok, look, gone," he says, referring the the dropped belt. "Look, man, these kids are at a tender age! They tense easily, okay?"

"Your boy who punched my official is out!"

"What?" yells Tony angrily.

"Tony Alva's been disqualified!" announces the speaker. "Next up, junior women's freestyle."

Tony finds a nearby trashcan to take his anger out on, throwing it to the ground as hard as he can. Skip runs out to console Tony. Stacy looks at me with sorry eyes and shrugs.

"Well, this sucks," Sid's voices his thoughts behind me.

* * *

"Pretty nice, huh?" says Stacy, flashing Kathy his pearly white smile. She picks up the trophy and grins.

I lean against the Le Baron, scowling, trying to ignore the tender moment being shared between Stacy and Kathy. It sickened me for no reason at all.

"Congratulations, Stacy. I'm so proud of you," coos Kathy.

"But I messed up," shrugs Stacy.

"What?" I interrupt with raised eyebrows. "You didn't mess up."

"No, I did," says Stacy. "Did you see my cutback—"

A warm breath suddenly trickles down my neck. I turn around and back away a few inches when I find Jay abnormally close to my face. While I turn toward Jay, Stacy continues to explain to Kathy why he messed up in the background chatter.

"Hi Jay," I say, trying to hold back my laugh.

Jay holds up his third place trophy like it was just a piece of metal. "Look at this thing," his mumbles.

"Yep, it's pretty neat."

"I think it's made of, like… real gold."

My laughter is cut off by the sound of a skateboard rolling up to us. Skip takes a drag of his cigarette and addresses Stacy.

"That's a nice ride, man."

"Thanks, Skip," smiles Stacy, clearly thrilled at having been complimented.

"So you look hungry, bro. We're gonna get some food. You wanna come with?"

Stacy tries to hide the flush in his cheeks, but I can tell he's excited. "Um, I don't think so, Skip," he says, surprising both me and Kathy. "I got plans."

Skip gets on the of the board again and takes off. "Well, suit yourself."

Stacy gets into the car and beckons me to follow. Kathy and Jay find Skip's car for their ride. As Stacy puts the stickshift in gear, he looks at me and grins.

"Skip called me bro," he says, unable to contain himself.

I look at him with disbelieving eyes. "Skip called you bro?"

"Yeah!" he says, grinning like crazy. "He said, 'you look hungry, bro'."

"Oh my god," I say in between laughs, amazed at his idiocy. "You are such a tool!"

"What?" he defends, but he's still grinning because nothing can bring his mood down. "Skip never calls anyone bro. It's an honor!"


	14. PoolRiding

**_AN:_** I rewrote it, yeah. Basically, I took out a huge chunk of dialogue, then I added two more scenes. It was just to make the story roll along more smoothly.

But part of it was extremely awkward for to write. Mostly Jay, I have no idea how he would act in the situation I set him up in. Please read it, and review telling me if I could've done something better with Jay and how he approaches Eden (wow I'm giving a lot away here).

* * *

**Chapter 14. Pool-riding**

* * *

I stare at the Trig textbook. The Trig textbook stares at me.

"What are you doing?" cuts in a voice, sounding very much on the verge of laughter.

Stacy enters my bedroom, raised eyebrows directed at me.

"I'm trying to obliterate this book with the power of my glare," I explain as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not working very well."

"I think you need to get out. All that reading has made your mind fuzzy."

"I can't," I groan, falling onto my bed. "The stupid drought has sucked the water out of the ocean, if you recall."

"Me and my friends found an alternative to surfing," he says distantly, shuffling the pages of my Trig textbook around.

"And that would be?"

There's a pause in Stacy's speech. I instinctively lift up my head, knowing he was keeping something from me. By the way his face read that he was uncertain confirmed these suspicions.

"Stacy. What's the alternative to surfing?" I prod.

"Well, you wouldn't really approve..." he trails off. "So never mind."

He abruptly stands up and begins to exit the bedroom, but I immediately jump into action. Leaping up, I prevent him from leaving by grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him backward. To my surprise, he collapses onto my bed. I guess I had used more force than I originally intended. Stacy is thinking something similar to this:

"Jeez, Eden," he says breathlessly. "Are you taking steroids or something?"

"Just answer the question, Peralta."

With a grin, he sits up on my bed and faces me. "Fine, fine. I'll tell you but, but you've got to promise not to get mad."

"I make no promises," I say, feigning haughtiness as I stick my nose up into the air.

"No really, you have to make the promise. Pinky swear and everything."

"What are we, in the third grade?" I say with a roll of my eyes. "Look, are you and your friends into hard drugs or something?"

"No, of course not."

"Because if you are, I'll _hurt_ you. Who's your dealer? It had better not be Biniak - that kid is so - "

"Eden, no. But the thing that I did mention, it is illegal, in a way. We're, um, we're pool-riding."

I give him a blank stare before saying, "Stacy, you can't just make up words."

"I didn't make it up, it's a hyponen!"

"You mean hyphen," I correct.

"Whatever. Long story short, we're breaking into people's backwards to skate their empty swimming pools."

Silence. For the moment, I'm too speechless to yell or ask questions. The Z-boys did a lot of bad stuff, but this was completely new for them. But this idea of "pool-riding" admittedly sounded ingenious.

Apparently, I was so busy being speechless that I hadn't noticed that Stacy had been rambling until now.

"... totally Tony's idea, not mind. But the first time we tried it, he used a girl's keys to get into the backyard. Anyway, you're welcome to come along, if you feel like it. But you can't tell anybody or else you'll probably get in trouble. And it's slightly dangerous. You're at risk of people calling the cops on you."

After a few more moments of this, I finally give up on Stacy and stand up, gathering the textbooks into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.

"That all sounds _fascinating_," I interrupt him. "But I think I'll pass for now. I'm going over to Lily's - she's got air-conditioning _and_ a butler."

"Huh," says Stacy, sounding astounded. "You're taking this way better than I thought you would."

"Oh no," I reply. "I totally and completely hate you guys for jeopardizing your futures. But I'm gradually learning to suppress my emotions."

To tell the truth, I'm getting sick of playing the tug-of-war game with the Z-boys.

Stacy smiles. "Well, if you change your mind, we'll probably be in the neighborhood. Most of the pools are in Lily and Sid's neighborhoods anyway."

* * *

"Where the **_fudge_** is my camera?"

I send Lily a strange look. "Did you really just say '_fudge_'? It's alright, Lily, you can say curse words now, you're a big girl." I took the tone of an adult speaking to a child.

Lily sighs at me. "I can't, it makes me feel dirty."

"Then you have issues. And your camera is on your night-stand."

"Eureka!" Lily grabs the camera off her night-sand and heads toward the closet. "Do you want to see how I develop film?"

"No, not particularly."

She decides to contradict me anyway. "Well, I think you do!" her voices drifts in from the closet. "You see, I've got some very interesting stills on my film reel. You'll want to see them."

Sighing, I get up to follow Lily into the closet.

Lily Bruinn has to be the only teenager on the planet to make a darkroom out of her walk-in closet. A red safelight filled the dimness of the closet, and a couple of treys filled with clear liquids were stacked on top of a shelf.

Using a pair of tongs, Lily grabs a piece of photo paper out of the developer trey and clips it onto the string hanging from the ceiling. Then she grabs another, dryer, photo paper off the string and takes me back outside again.

"Here it is," she points out the developed photo.

I see a picture of a gym track with some boys lounging the area. I quickly recognize two of them, Stacy and Jay. But more to the point, they were in PE uniforms: a gray t-shirt and ugly, _short_ shorts. Lily and I simultaneously burst out into a fit of giggles.

"Almighty Lord!" I claim aloud, trying to hold back my giggles. "Lily, how in the world did you manage to get this?"

Lily shrugs, taking the flattery into stride.

"I have seventh period off, and I saw them on the track. They didn't realize I was taking their photo; it's why they look so brain-dead. Oh, and check this out."

Lily points out Jay, who was sitting on the track asphalt with his legs spread-eagle and a brooding expression on his face. More specifically, she points at Jay's groin area.

"If you look close enough, from this angle you can see his ball-- "

"LILY!"

I shove the photograph out of my face with a disgusted groan. Lily collapses in a fit of laughter.

"So - worth - it," she says in between shaky breathes. "Your - _face!_"

"Shut up," I grumble. "It wasn't that funny."

"Yeah it was. Anyway, why do you got to be so squeamish? It's just_ Jay_."

"Is this what you brought me over for? To assault the senses?"

"No, I wanted to hang out, since we haven't done that in awhile. Except there's positively nothing to do," she says miserably.

"I'm sure we can think of something."

"What are the Z-boys doing?"

I snort, blowing a piece of red hair out of my eyes. "The usual crap, probably. Vandalism, law-breaking, etc. Except..." I remember the conversation me and Stacy shared earlier today. "Stacy did mention something, it's stupid though."

"What?"

"He said that they are starting to break into pools and skateboard in them."

Lily's face breaks into an expression of extreme surprise. "No way!"

"Yep, they're that nuts."

"And they're doing it right now?"

"Stacy said so. He even invited me, though I don't know why. It's not like I'd find anything useful out of watching them skateboard a pool back and forth."

"I dunno..." mumbles Lily. "It sounds kind of... fun."

I pause in order to give Lily a cross look. In the tone a mother would scold her child, I say, "Lily, no. We aren't - we're definitely _not _going."

"What?" says Lily, acting innocent-like. "I was just asking a question." After a moment of glaring on my part, she finally gives up her facade. "Come on, Eden, it should be fun!"

"No."

"Don't you want to know how they do it? How they 'skate pools'" she mimes air quotes. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I've never heard of anyone doing that kind of thing before."

"Like I care! I'm not going to risk my perfectly clean record just to watch a bunch of shirtless, pubescent bodies skidding against asphalt."

Lily sighs. "Do you even hear yourself? The shirtless, pubescent bodies skidding against asphalt is just the kind of fun we need! And what are the odds that we'll be busted by the cops? Everyone in the Valley have jobs to go to, none of them will even know the Z-boys broke into their backyards. Please, please, please?"

She gave me some puppy-dog-eyes, topped with a staged quivering lip. It was one-hundred percent fake, but somehow her efforts to sway me won me over.

"Fine," I sigh. Her face lights up. "We'll just look around the neighborhood, and if they're nowhere to be seen, then that's that."

"Thankyou!" Lily gives me a brief peck of the cheek before bouncing off her bed to put on a new set of clothes from her dresser.

* * *

A few minutes later, me and Lily emerge from her house, arm-in-arm. We stroll down the block, with the scorching sun heating up our black and red heads. Lily, knowing each house that had a pool, checked those backyards by peeking over the fences. After the first block, we moved onto the second, and here is where I got unlucky.

A brick house had loud, obnoxious voices emitting from its back. Lily walks up to the fence, tiptoeing to get a better view. Then she looks back at me with a smirk, and beckons like the devil.

We open the back door and walk in, slowly trudging toward the direction the voices are coming from. The backyard has a spacious blue pool with a white picnic table at the end.

And indeed, the Z-boys are infesting the area. Most sit around the pool, while others surrounded the picnic table. But my attention is immediately drawn toward the two figures which were spiraling inside the pool on boards.

It was an odd sight, and it astounded me: I'd never seen someone skate as high up against the wall as they were. It seemed just like surfing waves, only the waves were made of concrete wall.

"Dudes, look who's here!"

Several heads turn as Lily and me make our way toward the pool. Although Lily doesn't have the same flabbergasted expression as me, she still looks quite intrigued with the situation. She doesn't revere the surfing/skateboarding scene as much as the rest of us.

Lily sits down at the edge of the pool and rabidly watches Shogo and Red Dog circle the pool back and forth. For a minute, my feet are glued to the ground, I'm still processing the scene before me. A voice finally brings me out of my reverie.

"Hey, I didn't think you would come," says Stacy.

"I didn't plan on it," I reply distantly. "Lily persuaded me to."

Sid butts in, pumping out his chest in a comical manner. "So you girls come out her to watch us skate?"

Lily snorts at his antics, very unladylike.

"Jay, show 'em that one move you did!"

Smirking, Jay grabs his board and begins to step forward, but before he even enters the pool, Tony cuts off his path and jumps in with his own skateboard. I'm reminded of dogs eagerly competing for its master's affection.

* * *

"Don't you feel weird, just standing in this house?" Lily whispers to me. "I mean, this isn't even our house."

I glance over at the lonely housewife, who had been desperate enough to allow a bunch of teenage delinquents to skateboard her pool. She's smiling blithely as Sid massages her shoulders. I roll my eyes at Lily, she smiles.

The housewife's daughter, Shell, a girl with long brown hair, walks in through the sliding glass door. A sweaty Jay and Tony follow her in.

"Michael!" Shell barks, and her kid brother dashes in. "Make Tony a sandwich."

"I can't believe them," I mutter to Lily, who looks just as disappointed. "Excuse me," I say loudly to the woman, who's name I think was Marie. "Where's your bathroom?"

She gives me a disdainful look. Basically, '_You're only here because you're with them_' look. "Down the hall, first door to your left."

When I get there, I have no problem snooping their their bathroom stuff. Marie has eight tubes of lipstick, four mascaras, several shades of eye-shadow, and God knows what else. The only thing I had was a case of chap stick in my pocket.

I pick up the nearest tube of lipstick and carefully smear in on my puckered lips. Not a whole lot, but just enough to make me more appealing.

Someone knocks the bathroom door.

Thinking that it's Lily, I say, "It's open."

I'm surprised when Jay walks in.

"Jay. Do you need to use - ?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's cool. I just came to get a towel."

He slowly reaches the towel rack, which was hanging over the toilet. Meanwhile, I quickly smear the lipstick off my lips, feeling stupid.

"Hey, that kid is making grilled sandwiches," he says. "You want one?"

I shake my head, continuing my perusal through the bathroom drawers. "I'm leaving soon," I tell him. "Lily pointed it out earlier; being in some guy's house is just creepy."

I could feel Jay's green eyes bore into the back of my head, but I didn't dare spare him a glance. Instead I stare into the mirror at myself, the only comfortable place that I could look. Somehow the atmosphere had changed into something more personal, more intense, now that I was alone with Jay. Like a quiet before the storm.

"Then why'd you come?" he breaks the silence.

"I don't know. Lily likes coming. It gives us something to do." I give him those choices to pick from.

"I think you do know," says Jay, leaning against the counter. "I think you like watching us skate."

"It's alright," I shrug, feeling more uneasy by the second. He was acting _strange_. "Have you been drinking?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a grin flitting across his face. "No."

"Then stop acting weird--"

My mumble is cut short when I felt of pair of fingers start to softly caress my bare shoulder. I watch horrifically as Jay traces his fingers up to my head to tuck a red strand of hair behind my ear.

I let out a strangled whisper, "Jay."

He drops his hand, still staring at me. "What is it now?" he asks, as though some other invisible barrier had walked in on his life.

I begin, slowly, vaguely so that I don't have to outright say anything; I'd only imply it.

"Your friends, they told me some things... And I didn't know whether I should believe them or not, but now I'm starting to think they were telling the truth. Before you try anything, Jay..." I finally muster up enough courage to face him and look in in the eye. "Before you try anything, I'm letting you know now that I just want to stay friends."

He turns a little angry, pursing his lips. "That's some bullshit."

"Excuse me?" I say, sounding accosted.

"Why don't you just come out and say it? You don't want to be with me."

For a moment, I flounder in silence. Jay was being so direct, it scared me.

"What do you expect, Jay?" I finally come up with. "All of the sudden, without notice, you just start acting this way - "

"Without notice?" he raises his voice. "_Fuck_, Eden!" The impact of his words, the tone he had used them in, caused my mouth to fall open. "I mean, shit, all my friends have probably told you by now about..."

"What, and you expect me to believe the word of your _friends_?" I defend. "If you wanted me to know something, then you should've told me from the start!"

"Yeah, like I was gonna tell you," he says in a humorless laugh. "If I'd done this half a year ago, you would've acted the same way you are now."

"Fuck you, Jay!" I say, overcome with anger and embarrassment. "I'm not that predictable!" I say while reaching for the door knob.

"Then why don't you prove me wrong," he says quickly, before I can walk out. "If you weren't so predictable, then right now you'd stick around and let me kiss you."

The image of him kissing me briefly seeps into my thoughts. But just as soon as it came, it went away. I shake my head disgustedly at him.

"You're not going to dupe me into that, Jay."

As I say it, a woman's voice drifts down the hallway. "Is everyone okay in there?" Just as Marie appears at the doorway, I move passed her and head for the front door.

A man pulls up to the driveway when I get there. Red-faced, he walks out of the car and gives me a dirty look. "Who the hell are you?"

Too angry to speak, I ignore him, stomping down the street, having a vague direction of where my house was at. The man must have figured I was his daughter's friend: he went inside the house. I know I probably should have warned everyone out back that the husband was home, but a part of me just really wanted to spite them all because of what Jay had said.

* * *


	15. Bold As Love

_**AN:**_ Sort of filler, but I had fun writing it nonetheless. As a reminder, **I did rewrite the last chapter**, and if you hadn't reread it, then do that now or else you'll be confused here.

I don't own any Hendrix, I just luuurve his music. And the chapter title is kind of another tribute I have for him, so yeah.

* * *

**Chapter 15. Bold As Love**

* * *

A cool breeze licks the street I'm standing at. I stare up at the street signs: Peacock and Mexico Avenue. I had no idea where I was at or how in the hell to get home. I probably should have waited in Stacy's car until he got out, but I was in too much of a fit to wait around.

I hear a car turn a corner and someone vaguely shouts, "There's Eden!" from within.

Stacy's yellow-tinted Le Baron pulls up beside me, but instead of getting in the car, I continue walking. I know that if Stacy was in there, then Jay was in there too.

A window rolls down and Lily sticks her head out the window. The car stays in line with my walking pace.

"Thank god, Eden! We were freaking out, because you weren't at the house when everyone bailed."

"I left early," is my only explanation.

For a moment, Lily stares at me in wonderment. Then, "Well, now that that's all over. You can get in the car now."

"Uh, no thanks," I say in an odd voice. "I'll walk."

Stacy and Lily exchange a perplexed look. I catch a glimpse of what's happening in the back: Tony and Sid are looking at me like I'm crazy, but Jay refuses to meet my eye, choosing to instead look out the other car window on his side.

I was glad for it, I didn't want to make eye contact either. I would be too painful.

Instead of letting me be, Lily refuses to drop the matter.

"But Ed, come on, it's like a two hour walk," she says.

"I need the exercise. Just this morning Stacy told me that I needed some sun."

Stacy shrugs at Lily, who is more confused and irritated by the second. When Stacy asks her if they should just go, she stubbornly shakes her head and puts it out the window again.

"Eden, stop kidding around, get in the car."

I don't answer, continuing my walk down the sidewalk. Tony rolls down his window to join in.

"Hey, we're on a schedule here, _pendejo_. Lets go!" Tony mimes pointing at a watch on his wrist. Needless to say, this was ineffective in persuading me to go.

Stacy knocks Tony in the shoulder, whispering, "Shut up, you're making it worse."

"Eden, why don't you want to get in the car?" Lily demands to know. "What's up?"

I finally snap, twisting to face the car.

"Look, I just don't want your stupid ride, okay?" The fierceness in my voice takes Lily aback. "I just want to _walk_."

Stacy leans over Lily in his seat. "Eden, do you even know the neighborhood you're at?" he asks, bringing up a very valid point. "I mean, you could get lost. Come on, just get in the car."

Knowing Stacy for so long, his voice had the ability of calming my inner turmoil when it needed to. I finally give in and get into the Le Baron. Sid and Tony start clapping and cheering like we had just gotten through a tough intervention.

"So what's going on?" Lily turns to me and asks as Stacy pushes the car forward in acceleration. "Why didn't you want to ride with us?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jay hastily shift in his seat.

"Just something," I quietly shake my head. "I'll tell you later."

"I think it's just that time of the month, dude," Sid offers up an explanation, earning a sharp glare from Lily. "My mom, when she's menstruating, the only thing she'll drink for days is cranberry juice. And whenever we run out of cranberry juice, she takes it out on the dog. She whoops his ass."

"I hope I won't have to report them for animal abuse, man," smiles Stacy, going along with the joke.

I let my head fall against the leather seat of Stacy's car. "Will you idiots shut up?" I softly ask the car aloud.

"_Aaaand_ she's back," says Sid, sounding almost relieved.

* * *

I turn on the radio, sifting for the right song I was feeling. A Hendrix song comes on, '_Bold As Love_'. His voice blares, "_Anger!_" as the first lyric. It _definitely_ felt right.

"So what was that all about?" asks Stacy breathlessly, barging into my room without warning. "I mean, you were acting _way_ strange. You freaked me and Lily out."

I prop up my pillow against my head, stalling as long as I could.

"Something happened at the house. Jay, uh... Well, me and Jay had a little _episode_."

Stacy sits at the foot of my bed, listening with anticipation.

"He caught me alone in the bathroom. Things got a little carried away."

A wave of seriousness swept over Stacy. "What did you do? He didn't do anything wrong, did he? I should'a known, he was too quiet during the whole ride home!"

"Relax, it's not that serious."

"He didn't... He didn't kiss you, did he?" I could tell Stacy was getting worked up at the thought of this.

"No." I sigh, exhausted. "But it came close to that. I told him that I wanted to be friends, and he just blew up in my face. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe _him_."

Stacy lets out a relieved breath that he had been holding in, apparently glad that Jay could have done much worse to me.

"I think things will go back to normal for you two in a few days. Jay doesn't really hold grudges."

"I don't want it to go back to normal," I say, crossing my arms like a six-year-old. "Jay was _rude_. I mean, he was yelling and cursing at me."

Stacy surprises me when he shakes his head in a disagreeing manner.

"What did you expect, Ed? Jay has liked you for who knows how long? Since the first time you surfed the cove. That was like, several months ago. I think I'd be upset too if my long-term crush said _no_ after months of pining."

"But that still doesn't give him the right..."

Stacy shrugs. "Maybe it does. Look, I think you both may have overreacted. It's because you were surprised and he was ready. He knew eventually that he had to confront you about his crush, but you had no idea."

I let his words sink in. They surprisingly made a lot of sense. A lot more sense than _my_ previous logic. Suddenly, I felt guilty.

But I was too stubborn to admit this aloud, even if it was just Stacy. I had to keep my pride intact. Even if it was an overwhelming pride, a _blinding_ pride. The kind that would keep me from making good choices.

I would not be the sniveling idiot who crawls up to Jay Adams and asks for forgiveness. I wanted_ him_ to crawl up to _me_ first. He did owe me an apology after all. Right?

* * *

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like a bitch. I tried justifying myself, saying Jay should have given me more warning, that he should have picked a more romantic spot to do it. Hell, anywhere but a stranger's bathroom would have been more romantic. _Come on_.

But then the opposing side sets in.

I remember Jay _did_ drop little hints to me after all. He would inexplicably go out of his way to be nice. He even came close to kissing me one night, when I dropped him off at his house.

And the bathroom thing was not planned. It was spur of the moment. Jay was not a planner, he probably had no intention of kissing me when he walked into that bathroom. Or did he? There was no way for me to tell for certain.

The fact of the matter is, I still feel guilty about the whole thing. I couldn't just let it go, either. I had to mend things before they got worse. Just when and how was the question I had to consider.

* * *

_**AN:**_ Here are, once again, the poll questions, just in case some of you may have a change of heart:

**1)** Which character in the movie do you think I've portrayed the most honestly?

**2)** Which character do you think I've portrayed least honestly?

**3)** Where do you see this story ending?

**4)** Which pairing/s would you prefer for Eden? (as in romantic pairings)

**5)** Which pairing/s would you prefer for Lily?

**6)** How often do you think most fanfics ought to update?

**7) **Which was your most favorite chapter?

**8)** Which was your least favorite chatper?

**9)** What do you love most about this story?

**10)** What do you hate most about this story?

**11)** What was Eden's greatest moment? Or any other character's greatest moment in this fic?

* * *


	16. Shattered and Shot

* * *

**Chapter 16. Shattered and Shot **

* * *

Usually on Friday nights, I quietly sit at my desk, doing my homework and being the nice rule-abiding citizen I am. But on this Friday, something very peculiar happened. I got a phone call.

And it wasn't like a horror-movie phone call where the Final Girl (who battles monsters) answers, and she hears something like, "Have you checked the children?"

No, it went more along the lines of, "Dude, I'm so wasted, come pick me up" call.

I pick up the phone and answer hello. The other side is static-y for a moment, but when I can properly hear the receiver's end, there's a Black Sabbath song blaring in the background. I hear a girl's voice mutter "Oh ph_-uck_."

"Hello?" I repeat impatiently, ready to hang up.

"Hey," responds the slurred voice. "I feel like shit," she mumbles.

With horrific realization, I recognize Lily's voice at the other end.

"Lily?... Tell me where you are."

"Um, I'm... ugh, I can't think with this music," she rambles. "I'm at T.A.'s house."

"T.A.'s house?" I repeat loudly. "What the hell for?"

"Sid, he invited me. Sid invited me!" she repeats loudly just in case I wasn't able to hear. "I need'ya to come... pick me up."

"For god's sake, Lily. I'm not a chauffeur for the drunk."

"But I'm your friend. I mean, right? I'm your friend." Now she sounded frightened at the prospect of me not being her friend. "Please, come pick me up… Stop touching me!" she must have been talking to somebody else at the part. "_Fucker_!"

"Alright, Lily, just stay put. I'll come and get you."

"Thanks."

"Stacy!" I knock on his bedroom door, which had a surfer poster tacked to it. He invites me in and I enter, sitting down on his bed. Stacy was perusing his closet for something to wear.

"Tony threw another party. _Shockingly_. And I think there's something wrong with Lily, she sounds way drunk. I need to borrow the car."

"I can't," says Stacy. "Sorry. I'm taking out Kathy tonight."

I roll my eyes. "Then what about Lily?"

"She'll have to call her parents," says Stacy, finding a stripped Hang-10 t-shirt to put on.

"What if her parents aren't home?"

Stacy looks reluctant to say this, "Then, she'll have to find another way. Tonight is for me and Kathy."

"Kathy must really have you wrapped around her finger," I say disdainfully. "I mean, for you to prioritize a night with Kathy over Lily's safety-"

"Will you stop trying to make me feel guilty?" pleads Stacy. "I feel bad about letting Lily to fend for herself, but she needs to learn this lesson on her own. Her friends won't always be there to bail her out, especially when she's been drinking."

"Sure. But Kathy – "

"What do you have against Kathy anyway?"

"What? Because I'm not, like, best friends with your girl, then automatically there's something wrong? I don't make friends with every girl I meet, Stace."

"Whatever," he mumbles, too busy to put effort in his argument.

But I refused to let it go. Lily had sounded so helpless when she yelled for someone to stop touching her. I had a bad feeling about the party.

"Okay, how about a new proposition? I drop you guys off at your date, then I use the car for the party. Then later I'll pick you guys up. Deal?"

"I'm okay with that," smiles Stacy. "We're going to the movies."

-

"You two have fun!" I say in a fake cheery voice, which only Stacy is able to detect. "Don't get into any shenanigans, ya hear?"

While Stacy shakes his head to tell me to stop, Kathy nods and smiles. "Thanks for the ride, chica."

The couple exit the car and head toward the line outside the theater. I pull out of the street and drive toward Tony's house. As usual, I find the rundown neighborhood Tony lives. His house has bright orange light emitting from it and '_Free Bird_' was playing.

"Figures," I mumble after I park, taking the keys out of the ignition.

The house, unshockingly, is trashed. Beer cans and cigarette butts blanket the floor. Dogtowners swarm the living room and kitchen, swaying to the music. I decide to search the kitchen first, because that was where the phone was. Unfortunately, all I see are more teenagers, and a couple close to third-base on the tabletop. Making a face, I decide my best way to go was to ask around.

"Hey, Biniak, have you seen Lily? No? Sid! Where's Lily?"

"Haven't seen her," says Sid. "But she did look pretty wasted an hour ago. She couldn't even walk straight."

"Nice, Sid," I pat him in the back in a mock salute. "Way to take the prerogative and help out a friend in need."

Sid puts his hands up in surrender. "Whatever, I was busy with a girl." When I send him a disbelieving look, he continues, "Don't believe me? See for yourself." He points out a curvy, slightly husky Hispanic girl in the corner. "She has this amazing set of – " he cups his hands to his chest, as if words couldn't even begin to describe its beauty.

"Tell me if you do see her," I say in between chuckles. "Hey Peggy!" I yelp after spotting the petite Asian passing by. "Have you seen Lily?"

"Sorry," she shakes her head. "You might want to ask T.A."

I crank my neck, in search of a mane of wild sun-streaked hair in the crowd. That's when I catch Jay sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand, watching me. I quickly spin away, frantically searching for someone else I knew. For the first time, I was actually relieved when I see Tony sitting on the staircase, a girl wrapped in his arms.

"T.A.!" I yell, breaking up the small make-out session. "I need to talk to you," I give the girl a pointed look.

"Too bad, can't you see I'm busy?" he says, irritated at having been interrupted by me of all people.

He went back to nibbling on the girl's ear, she giggles and gives me the one-two, as if she were actually trying to make _me_ jealous. That gave me an idea.

"But _Tony_!" I let out a fake sob. "I'm _pregnant_!" I cover my face to cover up my shoddy acting job of a teary confession. "I'm pretty sure it's yours!"

The performance was convincing enough for the girl, because she immediately stands up and dashes away, despite Tony's protests. He gives me a disgruntled look. "This better be good."

* * *

Almost immediately, I spot Lily slumped against the hallway wall, on the verge of unconsciousness. I kneel down beside her and repeat her name. She merely groans in response.

Tony comes out of the bathroom with a wet towel and hands it to me.

"Jesus, she is trashed," I say, using the towel to wipe her wincing face. I pick up the beer cup and sniff the contents of it, before giving Tony a slow glare.

He leans against the wall in faux nonchalance, trying to hide his shame through a shrug. It was refreshing to know that Tony had a human side to him, and no matter how self absorbed he could be he still felt bad about Lily's state of being right now.

Lily utters another moan, her neck lops forward so I straighten it out against the wall again. "Mommy?" she asks in a broken voice, her eyes closed and her face recoiling.

"Far from it," I answer. "Come on, lets get you out of here."

I try to pick up Lily, but she was my size, only half an inch taller so she had to carry more weight. When I fail to pick her up off the wall, I look to Tony for help. We both pick up her shoulders from each side and head downstairs.

At the base of the stairs, someone knocks me over and I lose my half of Lily, she stumbles against the wall.

"Hey, watch it!" A voice spits in my ear.

I face the culprit; a boy a head taller than me, even taller than Stacy, and Stacy was a six foot giant. Despite this, my temper fires out of control anyway, and I end up derisively imitating him with a Neanderthal type grunt, "_Ugh, watch it!"_

As I glance at Lily, though, the boy forcibly grabs me by the arm and spins me around. "What did you say to me, bitch?"

"Let go of me!" I try tugging my arm away from his pinching grip. "Let _go!_"

"First you apologize!" he smugly demands of me, his alcohol-smelling breath seeping through my nostrils.

"Go to hell," I keep on pulling away, but he doesn't let go.

Tony, who had been sitting Lily down on one of the stair's steps to keep her from falling, finally turns to the fray and intervenes. And much to my surprise, he sticks up for me.

"Hey man, hey man, chill!" he tells the drunk, breaking his hand away from my arm. "Look, you came here to party, not pick fights with chicks. Here, have a beer." Tony grabs the nearest cup, which happens to be the one Sid is holding, and shoves it into the guy's grip.

Over Sid's protestant, "Hey!" the drunk guy gives me another dirty look.

"If I catch this little cunt lipping off to me again, she'll be down on her knees – "

But he was unable to finish, due to a sudden fist colliding into his jaw. A small crowd "oohs" and quickly makes some room for him as he falls to the floor. He sits up with a bleeding jaw and sneers at Tony, who was clenching his fist in pain.

"What the_ fuck_, man?"

Before Tony can even reply, the guy leaps off the floor and lunges at Tony like an animal. Within seconds, they're both wildly kicking and throwing punching in a heated brawl.

Not in the mood for this, I bravely kneel down on the floor and start to break them up by putting my arms between them and pulling each apart.

It starts working, because Tony leans back and ceases the punches, but the other guy, whether he didn't know I was in the way or didn't care, accidentally socks me in the face while aiming for Tony. I fall back on the floor, my red hair flailing, and a wave of dizziness and disorientation hits me for a few seconds.

Now the music turns off and everyone's mood goes somber. Everything is okay when it's a boy on boy fight, it's even entertaining with a girl on girl fight, but it's baaaad when a boy hits a girl. That was the general consensus at parties.

Suddenly, members of the Zephyr team are at Tony's side, Jay and Red Dog and Biniak are the ones I can see; they are roughly shoving the guy out the door and telling him to stay the fuck out. Peggy reaches down and gives me a hand. I've never felt so loved by the Z-boys.

* * *

"How does that song go again?"

"Lily, hold still," I grab for her hands, the same with a mother would grab her toddler's flailing arms.

"Not till you tell me the song," giggles Lily. I grab the seat beat and try to pull it around her, but her arms keep moving in the way, trying to block me. "Here, I'll sing it for you. _All the leaves are brooown, and the sky is greeeey, and the sky is greeeey - " _she was cut off by a hiccup.

"That's not a real song, Lil, that's you drunkenly ranting out of tune - "

"_Something something on a winter's daaaay... I'd be safe and warm, if I was in L.A!_"

Fed up, I simply give up strapping a seat belt on her altogether.

"Hey Tony, what time is it?" I ask, staring at Lily in disappointment.

"It's like, only eleven," answers another voice, _definitely_ not Tony's. I look up, startled to see Jay, who was walking in a line on the sidewalk, a bottle of vodka in his right hand.

"Jay," my voice betrays my surprise as I stand up to face him. "I thought you were..." I look around and see that Tony has probably already returned back to the house.

"So what's going on?" he says, stumbling a little.

Either he was too drunk to still be mad at me, or he wanted to pretend everything was okay. Or both. But I didn't say anything immediately either, because my guilt wasn't as strong as it was a few days ago. In fact, my sorriness had thinned to a minimal amount.

"I'm just taking Lily home," I explain. "She's pretty messed up."

"Oh. So you didn't come here to like, party or anything?"

"Jay, since when do I party?"

He nods, as if to say 'good point'. "Yeah, it's not like you to have any real fun."

I stare at him in the dim-litted street. What was he getting at?

"I have fun. _Plenty_."

He snorts derisively, disbelieving. I decide not to even bother arguing with Jay. I didn't have to prove myself to him. And even if I didn't have as much fun as I wanted, drinking beer and getting sexed up isn't my definition of fun, contrary to what Jay believes.

I check over at Lily; she seems to have finally passed out. I grab the seat belt and strap it over her waist. I hear Jay set the vodka on the sidewalk as another Hendrix song comes on. '_Fire_'. The alcohol seemed to have instilled the idea in Jay's head that it was okay to flirt with me again.

He suddenly jumps in front of me, his knees on the grass of Alva's house, and begins doing this weird, primitive, but oddly sexy dance as he air-guitars to 'Fire'. I shake my head, as he grabs my hand and tries to pull me away from the Le Baron, pulling me closer to Tony's house. His shirtless dance continues until I hear Lily whine from within the car.

I sigh. "I don't have time to deal with this, Jay."

Getting into the driver's seat, I start the car. But as I'm pulling away, Jay picks up the vodka bottle and impulsively throws it against the street, a little too closely to the wheels. The bottle shatters into pieces, which my tires have to grind over. I give Jay the bird on my way out.

We definitely had issues that needed to be resolved.

* * *

At midnight, I tuck Lily into my bed. I had already picked Stacy and Kathy up from their date at the movie's and I had _tried_ dropping Lily off at her house, but I couldn't face the music that was her parents. I decided that it would be better to call them and tell them Lily was sleeping over.

In the dead of night, the last thing I expected so to be woken up again. But it came, rather abruptly, startling both me and Lily awake.

The sound of shattering glass fills our ears. "Shit!" screams Lily. She had to be disoriented and scared out of her mind, because she didn't know she was spending the night.

Panicking, I stumble out of the bed and blindly reach forth to turn the switch on. My bedroom light flickers on, momentarily dazing both me and Lily. Once we regain ourselves, I look at the source of the noise: My window is broken, its glass shattered on the floor.

Suddenly, Aaron bursts through the door, in loose gym shorts and a t-shirt, looking alert and ready to fight. Soon, my mom follows in very precariously. The next door neighbor's dog breaks the stunned silence, howling at the disturbance.

"Oh my god, what happened?!" my mom sobs, clutching her hand to her mouth melodramatically.

"Looks like someone broke through the window," states Aaron, pushing some pieces of glass with his foot.

"But who?"

"Eden," Lily's somber voice cuts in for the first time. She holds up a skateboard and hands it to me. I flip it on its back. The usual self-identification graffiti is decorating the board, marked with skulls and Xs. However, in the corner, I vaguely see the initials "J.B." carved in red.

It was Jay's board.


	17. Eau de Z boy

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**_AN:_ **_You guys are going to hate me for the **rewrite** I've done. It's in the second half, Jay and Eden do confront each other. You guys also might hate Eden as well, because she's a bit of a bitch here. But that's her, too bad if you don't like it.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 17. Eau de Z boy**

* * *

"Is there anyone who you think would want to do this to you? Anyone who sticks out in your mind?"

I blink up at the pot belly in the blue uniform. Then shake my head.

Yes, I was covering for Jay's ass, and for what? He threw a skateboard through my window in the middle of the night. If there was a winner for 'Stalker-Esque Scares in the Dead of the Night', he would win it.

"Anything special about the skateboard? Does it have significance to you?"

I look down at Jay's skateboard and feign an epiphany.

"Wait a second! _This_ skateboard?" The officer leans forward in anticipation. I got him where I want. "This is the triple nickel antioxidant model that only one customer uses in this town!"

He sighs and leans back, very much aware of my sarcasm. Mom gave me a pointed look. Now was Serious Adult Time, no jokes.

"My step-son, Stacy," she says, "All of his friends are skateboarders."

The officer looks toward me. "No," I say without his asking. "I'm positive that none of them had anything to do with it. We all get along fine." Lily, who is sitting beside me, raises her eyebrows at the blatant lie I just told. "Anything else, _officer_?"

"Yes. What is that on your left cheek?

I finger my cheek and realize it's the spot where that aggressive guy at the party had smacked me. My mom gasps, noticing it for the first time. I stand up to look in the mirror to see how bad it looked. It was just a small scar under my eye, not much. I certainly hadn't noticed it until he had pointed it out.

"That's nothing."

"Eden, what's going on?!" says my mom tearily. "Where is that scar from?"

"I said it's nothing. Last night I was on Stacy's skateboard. I fell and tripped on the pavement, hit my face."

The officer finished filing out his report and nodded. "Well, tell me if you learn anything new about the case. Until then, this will be an unsolved domestic disturbance.

* * *

When my mom and the cop finally leaves, Lily bombards me with questions. I go to my closet to begin dressing.

"Ohmygod, was it Jay? Why would he throw his skateboard through your window? Why would _anyone_ throw a skateboard through a window? That doesn't make any sense! Do you think he was drunk when he did it? Are you even sure that it was Jay? It could have been any one of the boys."

"I doubt it," I tell her precariously, pulling a gray shirt over my chest. "I've seen Jay carve his skateboards before with things like 'Jay Boy' and 'J.B.'; it was definitely him."

"But why would he do that?"

"I've got a hunch," I say moodily, a dose of last night's events flashing through my head.

When I hastily pull on my red converses, Lily notices and asks, "Where are you going?"

"Uh, hello? Where would you go if someone broke into your room? To confront the culprit!" I say while running a brush through my tangled red hair.

"No, only _you_ would do that," she says, rolling her eyes. "Me? I would be hyperventilating at the near criminal experience I just had, like _normal_ people. What are you going to say to Jay anyway?"

"There won't be a lot of talking," I say. "Just throat strangling noises." I turn to Lily, fully dressed. "I'll be back in awhile. My mom is probably making breakfast, you can stick around or split, your choice."

"Good luck."

I sneak into Stacy's room, where he was peacefully slumbering. I grab the Le Baron's keys off his dresser and head for the bathroom. I pull out one of my mom's tubes of lipstick and begin writing a message on the mirror:

_Stac - going out, took the LeBaron, be back later - Ed._

* * *

Ten minutes later, I arrive at Jay's apartment, knocking loudly on the door. His mom, in her classic bikini-beach-mom attire, answers the door. I awkwardly ask whether Jay's around.

"Sorry, Eden. He came in real late last night, but he took off again at dawn."

Damn it.

"Thanks anyway."

My next stop is P.O.P.. It was a long shot, since the ocean hadn't had any real waves for weeks now. Sadly when I get there, it's empty. Jay's life revolves around surfing and skating; if he wasn't there then he could be anywhere. I drive to Zephyr's next, because that's where all the boys usually go to hang out.

Up Bicknell Hill, I peer through the shop's window. Nobody was there, except for Skip, who seemed to be dosing off in a chair inside. He's not really the business, working man type.

Then I hear a commotion from the side of the building. Somebody's skateboard almost falls into traffic.

Shogo runs to grab his board and then skateboards to the back alley that Zephyr has. Of course. I park the car and head to the back alleyway, which had the unmistakable stink of Eau de Z-boy all over it: broken surfboards, radios, bongs, skateboards and spraycans. What a zoo.

I go down the line of Z-boys, asking where Jay was. Unfortunately none of them know, or none of them are intimidated enough by me to answer truthfully. I begin to lose my cool by the time I reach Sid, my second to last option.

"Where is Jay?"

Sid shrugs with that shit-for-brains expression on his face, it's the one he uses every time he's high.

"I want a verbal answer," I press, giving him what I hoped to be a penetrating glare.

"Eehn," he scratches the black bandana on his head.

Tickticktick, Sid. I'm in no mood to deal with his pseudo-loked-out persona, as opposed to the pampered little rich boy that I knew he was.

"Sorry, haven't seen him," while he speaks, he reaches into his shirt's front pocket and lights up the end of another joint. "It's not like he'd want to talk to you anyway."

Before he can take a drag out of the butt, I shake my head, take the joint out of his hand and stomp it out on the floor.

"What the hell, Eden?!"

"You better not be lying to me, _Sid_," I tell him snidely. "Because I've been looking for him all day. Now, last chance, _do you know where Jay is_?"

"I. Don't. Know!" shouts Sid, kneeling to the ground to recover his stomped out marijuana. "Damn, are you always this persnickety?"

I roll my eyes, wondering to myself how he came to learn such an obscure word. My eyes roam the Z-boy zoo once more, and lands on my last resort. He's shaking a can of spraypaint, about to tag the cement wall with more graffiti. And when I approach him, he does a very nice job of pretending that I don't exist. I decide to play calm. Think ice. Think snow.

"Have you seen Jay?" I ask in an off-handed manner. Off-handed in a way that suggested me and Tony had never disputed in the history of knowing each other.

He merely rolls his eyes. "Your blocking the way."

I move off the wall to give him some room. I repeat the question to remind him why I was here.

"Like he wants to see you," is his only response.

A block of ice freezes over my insides. Did Sid and Tony _both_ know what happened the other day at the pool? No, Jay wouldn't tell anyone. They probably just knew something was up between me and Jay, because we'd been avoiding each other ever since that day.

Swallowing my pride, I cross my arms and quietly ask, "Please? I need to know."

No answer. He pretends to be fascinated with his mural on the wall.

"Dammit, Tony!" I blurt out. The ice has melted, the fire is back. It's a shame, too, with all those attempts to be civil towards Tony suddenly out the door. "I don't need your shit today!"

"And why the fuck not? Today's the same as any other day."

"No, it's not," I say gingerly. "You have no idea what I, personally, have been through lately."

"Oh, wah-_wah_!" he mocks a baby's cries. "The oppressions of being a rich white girl must be harsh!" his voice dripped with a sickening amount of sarcasm.

I suppress the urge to wrap my hands around his neck and strangle the air out of him. Tony was so much easier to deal with last night, when he had beer and a little pot in his system. Funny, alcohol seems to have the exact opposite effect on Jay, he only grows _more_ moody and fiery.

I channel my violent urges to instead forcibly snatching the spraycan out of his grip. I hold it away, heeding his full attention. He has a feeble attempt to reach for the can, but I keep it further away.

"Alright, Alva, my personal experience?" I snap, ignoring the glare he sends me over the stolen spraypaint. "I just spent the entire damn morning filing out a _police report_ because of your boy Jay! I don't know what got into him, but I guess he thought it'd be funny to scare the shit out of me and Lily by breaking my window at an ungodly hour of the night. Now either you tell me where he's at – "

"Or what?" he calls my bluff. "What are you gonna do to me? Huh, Peralta?" he challenges. He gets right into my face to emphasize his point. "You can't fight for shit, so what's the point of making threats when you can't back them up?"

And he did have a point. The only real advantage over Tony that I had was my intelligence. But even then, I didn't know just _how_ smart I was over Tony.

Unable to answer his question, I simply revert to name-calling. Yes, childish and desperate, but I had nothing else left to do, and my temper was only growing agitated. "You're a fucking dick!"

He lets out a laugh. "_Amazing_ comeback. Did you think of that one by yourself?"

I let out a scream of frustration. "You're impossible!" He was so senseless, sometimes I believed he actually enjoyed picking fights with me, like he somehow got a sick pleasure out of it.

To vent, I thrust the can into his chest and spin on my heel. I start to motor away, and it probably looked like a TV melodramatic storming off. For once in my life, my head was so feverishly incensed that I couldn't even string together another coherent insult for Tony. Which is rare, because I always have insults for Tony Alva. And I have an inkling that the feeling is mutual for him as well, because he didn't bother yelling at my retreating form.

But my steps are stopped short with the sight of Jay. He comes whizzing up on a skateboard, and his friends all swear at him – a bizarre greeting ritual practiced by the entire team. I get the vibe that he's intentionally ignoring me, like Tony had done before. The major difference between him and Tony was Jay seemed a little more on edge, whereas Tony was just unhappy to see me.

I slowly walk up to him, he has his back turned away from me. "Jay? I want to talk."

'Talk' seems to be a trigger word for the guys surrounding him. They seem to have interpreted 'talk' as something else, something dirty, because they all yell out in laughter and shove Jay over toward me. We find a more secluded spot in the distance; he looks up at me for the first time, and leans against the wall, waiting for me to speak first.

I cross my arms.

"So, funny story," I start, trying to tame the irate edge to my voice. "Some creep broke through my window last night."

As if trying to worsen my mood, a small smirk creeps onto his face. It was like a "YeahsorryIscaredtheshitoutof youbutnotreallybecauseitwasfunnyandworthit" smirk.

"I wonder what kind of creep this was. Either he could have been really, really drunk and stupid. _Or _he could have had this kind of _psychotic_ Romeo complex, where instead of reciting sweet nothings at my balcony, he decides to throw a skateboard through my window."

He adjusts his bandana, seemingly unable to answer my rant. I try to give him this penetrating glare, but Jay refuses to meet my eyes, instead choosing to stare at something above my left ear.

"Do you have any idea what your joke cost me?!" slips out of my mouth.

Jay finally speaks for the first time. "Your sense of humor?" I notice the way his Adams apple bounces to the bottom of his throat and back up again.

"_Pas mal_, Jay," I say in mock congratulations. "I'm standing here, still trying to figure out what you were trying to accomplish. Like what kind of message you were telegraphing me with a stunt like that."

"_Guess_," he says, taking me aback.

"I don't know," I breath. "Maybe your head just isn't screwed on straight. Why don't you spell it out for me, _Jay._"

He pauses for a long moment, as if really contemplating his answer for the first time. Then he says, "I felt like it."

I stare at him in silent shock, my mouth slightly open. I blink, then repeat him as if confirming what I heard was what had actually came out of his mouth, "You felt like it."

He shrugs yeah.

"Well, Jay," my voice volume begins rising. "Sometimes I feel like slapping my mother around for being a moron. But that doesn't mean I go through with it!"

He simply chortles in amusement. The thought of me slapping my mom around is no doubt an interesting picture for him to imagine.

"You know, I'm getting really sick of this punk phase that you're going through," I snap, my hands automatically moving to my hips now. "So let me get this through your easy bake oven head. What you did was stupid, and just plain mean. It made me realize something about you. _I don't like you_. I won't _ever_ like you."

Even as it came out of my mouth, I knew how bitchy it sounded. But I didn't take it back. I couldn't.

"And I'm through with you," I add softly as an afterthought.

He fixes me with a hard stare. My heart is beating against my rib cage. What did I just do? After one intense moment of silence, Jay finally pushes himself off the wall and lets his skateboard fall to the ground again.

"Fine," he murmurs sourly. "I'm outta your life." And he zooms away on his skateboard.

For a minute, I can literally feel my heart dropping. It was the same sort of feeling you get when you lose a friend. Was Jay my friend? I'm not entirely sure if he was ever a friend, but either way, now I'm _sure_ he isn't my friend anymore.

* * *


	18. Randomly belated AN

GOD I'm horrible. And it's horrible that the readers have to put up with my year-long spouts of writer's block. Sorry to those who have waited.

But if you wanna know the real reason I haven't been able to update... I've hit a dead end with this story. Why? The friggin pairing issue, the long-aged question of Eden/Jay versus Eden/Tony. Many want Jay to win (and I can't blame them) but to me, Eden/Tony would feel right. Yeah, that sounds crazy given how much of a jerk he is, but hey, I love the jerks. Either way, I don't want to labor through the final chapters being pissed off with the end result.

And I don't want to disappoint ANYONE, including myself, so I simply don't know what to write it anymore.

So I'm giving the fic away. Anybody who's interested in rewriting 'Recipe', PM me. Send me your thoughts on how you would end it and with what pairing. More importantly, a snippet of a rewritten version of the story, or preferably an original scene you would add to the fic. It only has to be about a page, but if you want to go longer, go crazy. Whatever scene it is, make sure it impresses me.

Out of all the submissions (and hopefully there'll be some, I'm begging you!) I'll be able to cherry pick the best out of the bunch, and that person can redo the story, ONLY BETTER!!!ii!!

:)


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